by Tina Folsom
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, her hand pushing against him to steady herself.
As she managed to sit up and lift her head, she looked at him, assessing him as if to figure out if he could be trusted.
“Thank you. I didn’t see … the car ran a red light.”
He nodded. “I’m glad I was there.”
“I didn’t see you,” she said, her voice a hotbed of caution as she eased farther away from him now. “There was nobody behind me. I would have heard you.”
Perceptive human. “I was just crossing from over there. The car’s headlights probably blinded you, so you didn’t see me.”
He rose slowly and reached a hand out to her.
Leila gave him a doubtful look. “Thank you.” She made a motion to get up, declining his hand, but the moment her right leg touched the ground, her knee buckled and she cried out in pain.
Aiden didn’t hesitate and supported her by putting an arm around her waist, making her lean against him. Heat from her body seeped into his, igniting his cells instantly.
“Brace yourself on my shoulders,” he instructed as he crouched down. Her elegant hands dug into his shoulders.
He reached for her foot. “I’m going to check if it’s broken, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Slowly, he stroked his hands over her ankle and tested her range of motion. She winced immediately.
“Ouch!”
“I’m sorry. It’ll be just a second,” he assured her as he allowed his supernatural senses to penetrate her skin and reach to the bone. It was intact. There was no break, merely a sprain. Relieved, he exhaled. “It’s not broken.”
“How do you know? Are you a doctor?” With curiosity in her eyes, Leila looked down at him.
Aiden released her foot and rose, making sure he kept supporting her weight. “No, I’m not a doctor. But your ankle is just sprained. You’re very lucky.”
“Thank you again.”
“You should put some ice on it right away.”
“I’ll do that when I get home.”
“No, I mean right now. Even a half hour delay can make it worse.” He pointed toward the end of the block where the lights of an Irish Pub flickered invitingly. “They should have some ice down there.”
What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t engage any more with her than he already had. If he were smart, he’d leave her now. But apparently tonight his mind was occupied with other things, lust being one of them, the inexplicable need to get to know her being another.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll just get a cab to take me home.”
He glanced up and down the street. “You won’t find a cab around here this time of night. We can call one from the pub—after you’ve put some ice on your ankle.”
And thanked your rescuer.
He could vividly imagine what kind of thanks he’d prefer: a kiss from those pert lips. The thought jolted him. He’d never before hoped for any kind of thanks from his charges, no matter how many times he’d saved their lives. It was what he did, what he was called to do. No payment of any kind was ever expected.
“Okay, I think I can walk that far,” Leila finally conceded.
“Walk?” He shook his head. Not as long as he was here to lend a hand. “I don’t think you should walk.”
Ignoring her protest, he lifted her into this arms and strode toward the pub.
“But …”
When he looked into her ocean blue eyes, her eyelids suddenly fluttered, and she lowered them quickly. Color flushed her cheeks.
With every step, her body rubbed against his, and despite the clothing that separated them, he felt a rush of excitement course through him. The contact was intense and real, the payoff torturing, as the bulge in his jeans could attest.
He noticed how she studied his neck and the muscles that flexed underneath his tight tee. It seemed she didn’t want to lift her eyes to peruse his face so openly. Not that he would mind being studied by her. Hell, there wasn’t anything he could think of right now that he would mind her doing.
With his foot, Aiden pushed the door to the pub open and was glad to see that it was half empty. Ignoring the inquisitive stares of the few patrons, he lowered Leila to a bench next to the window and lifted her leg onto it.
“Stay here, I’ll get some ice,” he instructed and went to the bar.
The bartender looked first at Aiden, then past him. “Something wrong?”
“My friend twisted her ankle. Could you spare some crushed ice and a clean dish towel?” he asked and put a twenty on the counter. “And two Jamesons, neat.”
“Yep, women and their heels,” he responded and took a towel from behind him, filling it with ice.
“Her heels weren’t to blame. A car ran a red light and nearly killed her.” He shuddered as the words left his lips.
“Fuckin’ drunk drivers,” the bartender hissed. “Tell ya one thing, when I see one of my regulars having too much, I confiscate their car keys. Don’t care how much they curse me for it.” He handed him the towel. “Here. I’ll bring the Jamesons to your table.”
“Thanks.”
Aiden took the ice-filled towel and walked back to his charge who was sitting up straight, leaning against the wood-paneled wall, her leg stretched out over the bench. He sat down at her feet.
“This should make you feel much better soon.”
He rolled the towel into a long tube and snaked it around her ankle, tying it at the ends so it held in place. When he looked up, he collided with her gaze.
“You’ve done this before,” she approved.
He winked at her. “I used to get into a lot of scraps when I was younger.”
Stealth Guardian children didn’t heal automatically like adult Stealth Guardians did. They needed to be tended in the same way human children did. They were, however, immune to human diseases such as measles and mumps, but broken bones, cuts and bruises would leave their mark the same way they did on mortal children.
“Here are your two Jamesons, neat,” the bartender announced and set two glasses with amber liquid on the small table next to them. “Cheers.”
Aiden nodded to him then looked back at Leila, motioning toward the whiskey. “To wash away the shock.”
SIX
Leila took the glass her rescuer handed her and hesitated. Was this a wise decision? She was a lightweight when it came to liquor, and this man was a complete stranger. A very handsome stranger, she corrected. One who had saved her life by the looks of it. Had he not pushed her out of the way so quickly, the car would have hit her full on and she would have been tomorrow’s headline. Promising Researcher Killed in Hit-And-Run Accident. She shuddered inwardly.
Maybe she did need a drink now that reality hit home.
“My name is Aiden,” the hottie said. A name that suited him.
“Leila.”
He clinked his glass to hers. “Shall we drink to good luck, Leila?”
“To good luck.” She sipped from the whiskey. As it made its way down her throat, her skin began to burn, but it wasn’t unpleasant enough for her to regret it. Warmth spread in her body, making her instantly feel better despite her throbbing ankle.
When she bent toward the table to set her glass down, Aiden took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers in the process. She caught him looking at her at the same time. His gaze was intense, his dark eyes seeming even darker than when he’d returned from the bar with the towel in hand. Odd, how a person’s eye color could change like that.
At the same time, she was unable to break the contact. Her mouth went dry as her gaze fell onto his parted lips. She’d never felt so aware of another person. He was right there, yet too far away to touch him, while he could put his hand on her leg at any time if he wanted to. Would he? She shook off the errant thought. What was wrong with her? Clearly, the shock of nearly being run over by a car had scrambled her mind. Otherwise why would she suddenly fantasize about kissing a stranger?
And why
was her heart beating faster, her chest heaving and her tongue snaking out to moisten her dry lips? As if anticipating a mouthwatering treat. Her stomach clenched in concert with her breaths, likewise expecting something delicious. Her palms felt sweaty, but she refrained from wiping them on her pants, not wanting to draw attention to their traitorous state. If she didn’t know any better she’d say she was behaving like a high school girl who’d just seen the quarterback of her football team stepping out of the locker room in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.
Aiden was fully dressed, yet he had the same effect on her. Her reaction to him was unusual for her. She’d never been one to see any appeal in a one-night stand, but with this man, she would throw caution to the wind, just the once.
“Thank you again,” she said quickly, not wanting the silence between them to stretch even longer and turn to awkwardness. It was bad enough that she was drooling all over him. As if she’d never been out with a handsome man.
Handsome? Make that sinfully gorgeous, she amended.
His dark hair was short and straight. By the looks of it, it was thick, and she was sure she could confirm her assumption if only she could thread her fingers through it. Maybe at the same time, she could test how soft his lips were and what it felt like to rub her fingers over the scar above his brow or over the stubbles that graced his chin.
“It looks like you’re getting your color back.”
He glanced at her cheeks, and she realized how flushed she felt. Was she blushing? At her age, she should be past such sophomoric reactions, but a quick peek to catch her reflection in the window revealed that her face looked indeed a little red.
She found a scapegoat very quickly and had no problem passing blame. “The whiskey.” Leila pointed to the glass on the table. “I’m not used to it.”
“I should have asked you if you wanted something else, but considering the shock you had, I figured whiskey would do the trick. Always helps me.” Aiden took a sip from his glass, clearly savoring the taste before swallowing.
“Yes, the shock,” Leila agreed hastily.
Her hand was still shaking when she smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear that had loosened from her ponytail, but she already felt better. The ice had a numbing effect on her ankle. Unfortunately, the handsomeness of her companion had reduced her brain’s speech center to producing only simple, short sentences. She couldn’t allow this to continue. It was ridiculous. She was a doctor, an intelligent woman and more than capable of speaking to a handsome man in complex sentences. She just had to pull herself together, be her usual confident self again.
“I was working late,” she mumbled then cleared her throat to lend her voice more strength. It worked. “Well, I work late most nights.” What else would she do? She had practically no social life.
“You shouldn’t walk home alone at night. There are all kinds of things that can happen.”
She shrugged, surprised at the concerned look on his face. “I was only walking the few blocks to the subway.”
“The next subway is five blocks from here—five long and pretty deserted blocks, if I may add.” He clicked his tongue. “That’s risky.”
“I’m not worried. I’m armed.” She’d grown up in the city and knew to be prepared.
He raised a surprised eyebrow. “Gun?”
She dug into her shoulder bag and pulled out her weapon of choice, waving it triumphantly. “Mace.”
But Aiden seemed unimpressed, shaking his head in apparent disapproval. “You know how easy it is for a man who knows what he’s doing to rip this out of your hand and use it against you?”
She waved him off. “I know how to use it.” She’d been carrying the spray for years.
“Do you?” There was an odd glint in his eyes when he made a sudden movement. Before she could react, he snatched the mace out of her hand and held it up.
Shock coursed through her, and from the corner of her eye she saw the bartender stop in mid-movement. A sense of panic gripped her even though there were other people in the bar.
“See?” Aiden asked. “See how easy it was for me to disarm you?”
Her heart still pounding, she stared at him with widened eyes. This had not been on her predictability list. “But . . . but I wasn’t prepared in here. We’re in a bar.”
He shook his head and placed the can of mace back in her hand. “It can happen anywhere. You’ll always have to be prepared.”
His voice carried a heavy dose of insistence with it as if he wanted to make sure she didn’t forget the lesson he’d just taught her.
She’d always thought she was prepared, but this stranger had just proven to her that she was nowhere near close to dealing with the unpredictable. She made a mental note to work on that, how, she wasn’t quite sure. “You had an advantage because I showed it to you.”
She felt the need to defend herself, not wanting to come across as a weak woman who needed a man’s protection. Particularly not in front of Aiden. When she looked at him, she felt the strange need to show him that she was strong, that she needed nobody—as if to prove something to him, even though she didn’t know what.
He smiled and put his hand over hers. Instinctively she tightened her fingers around the can.
Aiden nodded appreciatively. “Good, you’re learning. Because anybody could be an attacker.”
“Even you? Even though you saved my life?” She had no idea why she asked him that, her lips forming words without her permission.
He briefly squeezed her hand, then severed the contact, a strange look on his face. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
Leila lifted her chin. “So you’re telling me I can trust you?” Could she trust him? Or was she letting herself be fooled by his handsome face?
He leaned closer and reached for her free hand. His eyes penetrated her as if he was trying to see deep into her. When his lips parted, he did so only to whisper so quietly she barely heard it, “Maybe you shouldn’t.”
Then he pulled her hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss on the back of it. When he let go, a smile played around his lips. Her belly fluttered excitedly in response. Now she understood. It had all been a joke. He’d just pulled her leg.
She drew in a breath of relief. As she exhaled, a chuckle rolled over her lips.
He stared at her in surprise. “What’s so funny?”
“You. You were trying to scare me, but you couldn’t keep a straight face. Do you always do this to charm women?”
“I was charming you?”
She preferred not to answer that question.
Aiden smirked. “I guess you found me out.” For a moment, she could see the little boy in him that he must have once been. “A woman’s intuition?”
She tilted her head, studying him. “Maybe.”
Nervously, she reached for the glass again, but he anticipated her move and handed it to her. When she took another sip, another wave of heat spread in her body, but she wasn’t certain whether it was the alcohol causing this reaction or the fact that his eyes were pinning her. Returning his intense gaze, she suddenly realized that she was flirting with him. Everything feminine in her bloomed in an instant.
“And what else is there to know about you?” she asked before her courage could desert her.
“I’d hate to bore a woman by talking about myself.”
“So you prefer to remain mysterious,” she countered.
“Is that what I am to you, mysterious?” His eyelashes lowered a fraction, heat blazing in his eyes. “Good mysterious or bad mysterious?”
She swallowed quickly. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“What will help with that decision?”
“I’d have to know more about you.”
He let out a hearty laugh. “That defeats the purpose of remaining mysterious. If I tell you all about myself, there’ll be nothing mysterious left about me.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
“You’ll find me boring and uninteresting.”
<
br /> She chuckled. “I doubt that very much.” She paused for a moment, her eyes suddenly honing in on the scar above his eyebrow. She pointed to it. “Tell me how you got this scar.”
He rubbed his finger over it. “This? That’s an old one. I was a boy.”
“And?” She motioned for him to continue.
“You really want to know?”
Leila nodded.
“My twin sister and I were little hellions. We were always roaming through the woods, disappearing for hours and hours. We were driving our parents nuts.”
She smiled. “Roaming in the woods? My parents would have been beside themselves with worry.”
He grinned. “We were ten, and trust me, my parents were glad to have a few hours to themselves. They had their hands full with us.”
“I believe it,” she murmured, noticing the excitement that gleamed in his eyes.
He looked mock-surprised. “I wasn’t the problem! My sister was. She was the wilder one.”
“Sure.” Leila chuckled to herself, enjoying him reliving his childhood adventures.
“I heard that.” He winked. “Julia always thought she could do anything. But . . . she slipped and fell. There was a cave, and she was dangling there, about to fall into it.”
“Oh my God, how deep was the cave?”
“Deep. I was horrified, but I reacted out of instinct. My hand went around her wrist, holding her while I braced my feet against a massive root that was anchored in the ground. I pulled her out, but the moment she was safe, the root snapped under our weight and hit me. Narrowly missed my eye.”
Leila let out a breath. “You saved your sister.”
He nodded, a sad look crossing his face. “That time, yes.” Then he smiled, changing the subject. “So, how’s your foot feeling?”
She looked at it. “Actually, I haven’t even been thinking about it in the last few minutes. You’re a miracle worker.”
“Hardly.”
“Thanks for helping me.”
“It’s all in a day’s work.”
She studied his face. “But you said you’re not a doctor.”