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Husband: Some Assembly Required

Page 13

by Marie Ferrarella


  Blood spurted, accompanied by a guttural scream. The sickening crunch told Murphy he’d broken the man’s nose. Murphy was frantic to get to the man who was grappling with Shawna.

  Adrenaline pumped through his body, giving him strength that he would never have thought he had. Fists flying, Murphy fought the man to the wall. Connecting with his chin, Murphy sent the gunman sinking to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Free, Murphy almost flew across the room to the other man.

  She couldn’t pry him loose. He had his hands around her throat and was squeezing it as if he didn’t know that he was killing her. As if it were only a game to him, a way of getting even because she had hit him. The room began to go black.

  Murphy grabbed the assailant by the shoulder, trying to pull him off Shawna. The man held on as if this was his only purpose in life.

  Locking his hands together, Murphy swung hard against the man’s head, knocking him over to the side. The assailant’s hands loosened from around Shawna’s throat.

  Murphy grabbed her, holding Shawna to him as she gasped. “It’s all right,” he soothed. “It’s all right.”

  But it wasn’t. He heard movement behind him and knew the first man had gotten up.

  Suddenly the outer door crashed open against the opposite wall. The biggest man Murphy had ever seen walked in. There was anger in his eyes and he had the unmistakable smell of death about him.

  Murphy held Shawna against him, his mind racing for a way out. This had to be the ringleader, the man in charge. Murphy could tell by the way he moved, by the icy way he regarded the two men in the clinic.

  And the way they both froze when he entered.

  For a long moment there was only the sound of Shawna trying to pull air into her lungs.

  Finally he spoke. The man had a voice like gravel. “Get out of here,” he growled at the two men. “Now.”

  The gunman held his nose. Blood seeped through his hand. “But he—”

  “Now.” The dark eyes became slits and all the more frightening. “Don’t make me say it again.”

  There was no need. The two men scurried off like mice fleeing from an oncoming flood, squeezing past the big man to get out the door.

  He didn’t move out of the way.

  Within a moment they were gone. The silence in their wake was overwhelming.

  Murphy’s eyes locked with his, searching for a sign that they hadn’t just gone from the precipice into the mouth of the volcano.

  Without a word he strode into the clinic. The man was so big around the middle that he wore suspenders because it didn’t seem possible that a belt could span that girth. His chest was even bigger. Standing before them, he extended his hand toward Shawna. Her eyes on his, she took it and allowed him to help her to her feet.

  “You all right?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. She felt Murphy’s hands tighten on her arm. It helped.

  The man nodded.

  “I don’t know you, do I?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question. She would have remembered someone like him in the clinic. “Who are you?”

  “People call me a lot of things.” His eyes were unfathomable. Murphy guessed that he’d seen more than most people would want to ask about. “I answer to Mount.”

  “Short for Mountain,” Murphy guessed.

  The flash of white teeth was instantaneous. And fleeting. “Yeah.” His eyes shifted to Shawna. “They won’t bother you anymore. You’ve got my word.”

  She knew it was a promise. “Thank you.”

  Murphy wasn’t satisfied. He regarded the tall man. This was not your average, garden-variety Samaritan. “Why did you come and help us?”

  “Not you,” he said to Murphy. He pointed a thick finger at Shawna. “Her. You patched up my little sister the other night.” He nodded, as if conferring with himself. “You’re okay. We could use your kind around.”

  Shawna passed a hand over her throat. Murphy was at her back and she found that infinitely comforting at the moment. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  There was no discomfort at the comment and hardly an acknowledgment.

  “You already did. By coming here.” Mount was already easing out the front door. “I’ll be around.” His eyes held hers one last time. “Don’t let them scare you off.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t.”

  He smiled then. A small, tight smile that softened his hard features that the street had hammered in from an early age. Then it vanished, leaving behind no trace.

  “Didn’t think so.”

  He walked out without bothering to close the door. The night swallowed him up before he had taken half a dozen steps.

  Chapter Nine

  Moving the dead bolt into position, Murphy turned around and crossed to Shawna. She looked whiter than the lab coat she was wearing.

  When he placed his hand on her shoulder, she sagged against him. He was afraid that she was going to faint. Holding her to him, he looked at her face.

  No, she wasn’t going to faint. She was far too strong for that. He could see it in her eyes. “Do you want me to call the police?”

  Shawna shook her head, unable to speak for a minute. The full impact of what might have been had hit her and she was trying to push it away as quickly as she could. “No. It wouldn’t do any good and nothing was stolen.”

  There were a great many more violent crimes in the area. The police had their hands full. Besides, there had to be a better way to handle this.

  He studied her face, trying to second-guess her. “You don’t want the publicity.”

  He was blunt, but he had also gotten to the heart of it. “That’s right. I want this to go on being a little clinic that people feel safe coming to. And once you know something bad happened in a place, it’s never the same again.”

  She had a point. And though he didn’t like her being here more than ever, it was probably less dangerous for her now than before. “I see what you’re getting at. And I suppose you do have yourself a rather large guardian angel now.”

  Mount hardly looked as if he fit the part of an avenging angel. But there was no doubting the fact that the big man had appointed himself the clinic’s protector. More important, that he had appointed himself her protector. That went a long way in reassuring Murphy.

  She nodded. “I think word’ll spread about Mount. Nobody’s going to try to break in or bother us with him to worry about.” It sounded good. Shawna looked down at her hands. “So why am I shaking like this?”

  Murphy moved behind her and slowly slipped his arms around hers, embracing her. Offering comfort and warmth. The sexual pull was only a by-product.

  But it was there.

  For both of them.

  “Because you’re human.” His breath fluttered along her temple. It soothed and aroused her. “I was really beginning to wonder about that earlier. Even that pink rabbit with the drum needs batteries once in a while.”

  She turned slowly, her body brushing against his. She felt so many things right now it was confusing. But predominately, she felt grateful that he was here with her. “Never saw anyone change them.”

  Murphy winked. “They do it during the programs so that he can keep running during the commercials.”

  He said it so seriously she couldn’t help laughing. “Oh.” It felt good to laugh, good to release the tension that had her in a vise grip. The laugh turned into a sob. What if he had been hurt? She’d never have forgiven herself for bringing him along.

  Murphy’s heart wrenched within his chest. He wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on what might have happened to her. Gently he stroked her hair, holding her to him. “Yeah, I know. I know.”

  And somehow, she knew he did. Somehow, he was privy to all the emotions that were ricocheting through her. Feeling foolish, Shawna scrubbed her face with her hands to erase the tearstains. She took a deep, cleansing breath and released it before she looked at him.

  He had the beginnings of a bruise just below his right eye. A br
uise and a superficial cut. The latter matched the one over his temple. It took very little imagination to think of what other blows he must have taken during the fight. “Are you all right?”

  He tightened his arms around her and grinned. “Right about now, I’d say I was great.”

  This wasn’t the time for his humor. On closer examination, it looked like a nasty bruise. “I’m serious.”

  The laughter receded just a little from his eyes. “So am I.”

  And in a way, that scared him, he thought. She felt so right just where she was. Too right. And he knew where that could lead—to mistakes being made.

  Why shouldn’t she feel right? She was beautiful, and he was a man. There wasn’t anything more to it than that, he silently insisted.

  Impatience bubbled in Shawna. Didn’t he realize the kind of danger he was in, walking around with that blood clot? “He could have hit you in the head.”

  Murphy ran his fingertips lightly along the tender area beneath his eye. He was probably going to have a black eye tomorrow. Thank God he didn’t have to be in court to plead a case. “He did.”

  “I meant—” There was no sense in continuing, not until she could talk him into having the surgery. She blew out a surrendering sigh. “Sit down—let me tend to that.” She wanted to clean the cut before it became infected.

  Murphy shrugged, unwilling to be fussed over. “It’ll be all right.”

  The hell it would. She could put up with just so much obstinacy. She pointed to Caro’s chair. “Sit.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Shawna waited until Murphy planted his rear on the chair, then hurried to the back to get what she needed to clean the wound.

  Murphy raised his voice. “Ever think about training animals as a sideline?”

  Shawna emerged from the back, a tube of antiseptic in one hand, applicator and bandage in the other. She set everything down on the reception desk. Taking the tip of his chin in her hand, she tilted his head back toward the light for a better view.

  It probably looked worse than it was, she judged. And it would look even worse tomorrow. “Are you equating yourself to an animal?”

  He tried not to wince as she applied some sort of ointment to the cut. “Maybe. What kind would I be?” He tried to focus on her and found that she was just a little murky. He refused to let that worry him. It would pass. “Panther?”

  She stopped and looked down into his face. “Pussycat.”

  “Ouch.” The response was to her term, not her ministering. He sat perfectly still as she cleaned away the residue. “At least say ocelot.” He paused, but she didn’t take up his suggestion as she tossed aside the cotton swab and covered the bruise with a bandage. “For a pussycat, I think I defended us pretty well.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes met his. “Yes, you did.” She recapped the tube of ointment and twisted it closed. “And if it hadn’t been for you, that man would have choked me to death.”

  He didn’t like seeing that wisp of fear dancing through her. She shouldn’t have to deal with something like that. “All in a day’s work as a superhero.” He purposely teased the hoop at her ear, sending it swaying.

  “From pussycat to superhero. Some leap.”

  He raised one hand innocently. The other he rested not so innocently on the swell of her hip, holding her in place. “Tall buildings in a single bound, that’s me.”

  She started to laugh at the absurdity of the conversation. He knew how to make her feel better. “Murphy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up.”

  Catching her completely off guard, Murphy pulled her unceremoniously onto his lap. “Make me.”

  Shawna twined her arms and rested them around his neck. It felt as if she belonged right here. If she was honest with herself, she knew there wasn’t anywhere that she would have rather been at this moment.

  That was just the trouble.

  She knew she was being too vulnerable again. But just for a moment, if she kept a tight rein on her emotions, she could enjoy this.

  Just for a moment.

  Leaning her face down to his, Shawna brushed her lips across his. It was over before it began.

  Murphy had other ideas.

  “Good.” He nodded his head as if he were judging a sample of pie in a competition at a county fair. “Good start.” A smile coaxed its way from his lips to hers. “Now do it again. With feeling.”

  Before she could protest, he cupped the back of her head with his hand and leaned forward, kissing her. Really kissing her. All the stops had been pulled out. He’d almost lost her and the emotion that thought generated overwhelmed them both. If the nagging thought whispered along the corners of his mind that this was getting out of hand, that this had the potential of being far more serious than he wanted it to be, he ignored it.

  The tidal wave came for her immediately, without warning, without a single alarm going off. Without allowing her to swim for shore. Shawna was swept completely away, drowning in him, in the swirling waters that surrounded her and pulled her under.

  Her arms tightened around his neck, encircling him without her conscious consent.

  All she could think of was him. Her mouth slanted over and over again, meeting every onslaught. Losing the battle for her soul.

  She tasted of fear, of excitement, and everything he had ever dreamed of feasting on. She was like a trip into virtual reality after a lifetime of looking at two-dimensional black-and-white drawings.

  Hold it.

  The warning throbbed in his head, admonishing him to back off and reassess the situation. He was getting in over his head. Things were happening more swiftly than they ever had before. Relationships had a natural progression for him and this was an entirely unnatural state.

  Too fast, too fast.

  Yet he couldn’t pull himself free of the whirlpool he was in, couldn’t summon the strength to do it.

  She didn’t want to stop but knew she had to. She wanted to make love with him too much not to give in if they didn’t leave now. Immediately.

  Shawna jerked her head away, her breath ragged. Unable to steady it, she leaned her forehead against his, hoping he wouldn’t notice how rattled she was. Hoping if he did, that he’d think it was due to the assault and not him.

  “It’s getting late—we’d better go,” she murmured.

  Her breath, sweet and enticing, wafted along his face. Everything within him tightened like a coil, ready to spring.

  “You’re absolutely right.” He left his hands resting comfortably on her hips. With the slightest bit of encouragement he’d willingly go on to explore new terrain, despite all the alarms going off in his head. “So why don’t I feel like getting up?”

  One of them had to make the first move, before there was no turning back. “Because you’re lazy.” She allowed herself one quick caress along his cheek before she rose.

  He’d hardly noticed her weight when she was on his lap. So how was it possible that the lack of it could create such a sense of loss?

  He jerked a thumb toward the rear of the clinic. Survival, his own, lay in playing the part of a Casanova. “Sure I couldn’t interest you in taking me into one of the back rooms for a thorough exam?”

  She was becoming accustomed to the smiles he pulled from her, like a magician lifting an endless supply of rabbits from his hat. Even in the aftermath of the attempted robbery, he made her feel good.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Ducking into the office, she took off her lab coat. “Besides, I’m a doctor. I don’t play doctor.” She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.

  “Too bad.” Murphy laced his fingers through hers and began to lead her to the front door. “C’mon, let me drive you home.”

  “We came in my car,” she reminded him.

  He flipped the lock after taking a cursory look outside through the door. The street was empty. “I can still drive.”

  She was going to argue that he wasn’t in any condition to drive, but maybe he
was. Maybe he was in better condition than she was, at least emotionally.

  “All right.”

  Murphy got in behind the wheel, feeling in control again. For the time being.

  * * *

  Murphy slowly brought Shawna’s car to a stop beside his own in the deserted parking lot. The eight-story edifice at the far end was completely dark, a testimony to the fact that everyone in the world with half a brain had gone home for the night.

  For the last few miles he had been aware of a dull buzz, accompanied by an even duller ache in his head. It had made him just the slightest bit nervous. But Shawna had drifted to sleep the first mile into the trip home and he didn’t want to wake her just to complain about it. Knowing her, she wouldn’t have reassured him, anyway. More likely than not, she would have insisted on another one of those iron lung tests. He wasn’t in the mood to lie still in a silver tube. Not unless she was lying there next to him.

  He had his doubts about how still he’d remain.

  The symptoms were probably just a leftover calling card from the altercation in the clinic. He’d be fine in the morning. Better than ever.

  Murphy pulled up the hand brake and turned off the engine. He was tempted to just sit here and watch her sleep, but he knew she would be better off in bed. His, he wished. But he knew hers would be the bed of choice. And a solitaire choice at that. Maybe that was for the best.

  Very slowly he brushed a kiss along her brow. She stirred and said something he couldn’t quite make out.

  He kissed her again. This time her eyes flew open in surprise. He leaned back. “We’re here.”

  “Here?” Shawna bolted upright, like a jack-in-the-box with a delayed release. She looked around, slightly bewildered by her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was pulling out onto the street by the clinic.

  “The parking lot by your office. We left my car here, remember?” He gestured to it on her right. She looked too tired to drive. “I could take you home.”

  She shook off the last layers of sleep from her brain as she dragged a hand through her hair. “No.”

 

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