Before either of them spoke, a deep voice from behind her said, “You must be the lovely Hannah Mark has been talking about.”
She turned her head to find a man almost as tall and about the same age as Mark. Unlike Mark, though, this man was all mischievous smiles. Hannah had no doubt why. They were caught in a very compromising situation—both Mark and she were half dressed.
“Don’t mind my friend Mark. It seems having his hands full has made him lose his manners. I’m Don Farrell, Mark’s helper for a while.”
She felt Mark tense. This wasn’t any more pleasant for her, yet he didn’t put her down. The more she tried pulling away, the more it was obvious her attempts were totally ineffective. His arms were like steel. Beautiful pillars of hot steel. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Even with another person in the room, she couldn’t control her dirty little thoughts.
“Will you please put me down?”
Mark slowly let her legs drop to the floor, but he continued to hold her against him with his other arm.
“All the way,” she demanded without meeting his eyes. Her hand had already felt his heart pounding. There was no need to confirm what she felt by seeing the same desire burning in his eyes.
Once freed she headed for the door. Don gave her a sweet nod and stepped out of her way. As she passed, he gave her a playful wink. Are you sure you two are friends? You’re as different as night and day.
Before she made it out the door, Mark had swooped her back up into his arms.
“What are you doing? Put me down!”
This time she pushed against his chest and shoulders, but the outcome was the same.
“Stop wiggling. You’re hurt.”
Hannah froze as she tried to assess her body. She didn’t feel any pain. Was this some ploy? If so it so wasn’t funny. “I’m fine,” she informed him firmly.
“You’re bleeding. I need to get you to your apartment and get your clothes off.”
Good try. “I am not that naïve, Mr. Collins. So I am only going to say this one more time before I show you my southern temper. Put me down!”
Mark stared at her, challenging her to do so. “Do you honestly think I’d hurt you?”
She wasn’t sure. There was something dangerous about him. When she looked in his eyes, it was there, even though he tried to hide it. When she didn’t answer, he continued.
“Who do you think would come to your rescue? Your tenant? Don?”
The tenant was not an option, but she wasn’t so sure about Don. Turning her head so she could see him, he only shrugged at her.
“Above my pay grade.”
Hannah couldn’t believe the man could joke at a time like this. She was being manhandled, and no one was going to do anything to stop it. What if I really was in trouble? Who’d call the police? He was right. Anything could happen to me out here, and there’s no one to save me.
Her screaming was only a threat, and he’d called her bluff. So let’s try plan B.
“Mark, I appreciate you trying to help me, but I assure you I can take care of myself. I’m fine.”
As he held her with one arm, his free hand rubbed her bottom gently. Any other time, and in private, she would most certainly enjoy that, but this was not happening.
When he pulled his hand up, he held it so she could see. Blood. Oh, my God. I’m bleeding.
“That’s . . . blo—”
“As I said, you’re hurt. I need to see how bad. So either you’re going to let me look at you here in front of Don, or we can do it downstairs in your room. But understand this, Hannah, these are your only two options.”
I’m bleeding. Panic filled her, and Mark must have sensed it.
“Move, Don,” Mark barked at his friend who gave way for them to pass.
Within seconds, they were inside her apartment, and she was standing on her bedroom floor.
“I need to go to the bathroom so I can see where I’m bleeding in the mirror.”
He didn’t move out of her way. Instead Mark reached out took off the light cotton robe and tossed it to the side.
“I can take care of myself.” She wasn’t used to anyone taking such control over her in this manner. Yes she may be injured, but she wasn’t an invalid.
“Turn around so I can take a look.”
She was once again in her tiny shorts and cami. It wasn’t naked but too damn close for her to feel comfortable standing there with him staring at her. “Get me a mirror and I will look.”
“You will not be able to see if it is a puncture wound or a scratch from a mirror. Now turn around and let me look.”
This house isn’t worth all this humiliation. Slowly she turned. Hannah could feel his warm fingers gently lift the bottom of her cami up, so it was in the middle of her back. Then even more gently he slid her shorts down.
I could just die. This can’t be happening. My fantasies never included any of this.
His hands now touched her bare bottom, not in a sensual way, but as though he was medical professional.
“I need to clean away the blood. Do you have any hydrogen-peroxide or an antibacterial cleanser?”
“No.”
“How about rubbing alcohol?”
Her eyes widened and tried to turn to face him. “That’s going to hurt.”
“It will. But I have to clean the cut, or it could get infected. It looks like a small puncture wound, and you won’t need stitches, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to clean it.”
Everything in his tone was one of control and professionalism as though he’d done this a hundred times before, but his touch was so gentle. What type of contractor are you that you’re so comfortable doing this? I know guys get hurt on the job, but you’re so in control, like this is second nature to you. Hannah didn’t want to tell him where the alcohol was, but he was correct. It had to be cleaned. If she didn’t let him do it, then she would need to go to the hospital. Things were bad enough without medical bills.
She hadn’t used the alcohol since her father had passed away. He’d had some medical equipment that needed to be kept clean. Never did she think it’d be used on her.
“Soap and water?” Even as she said it, she knew what his answer was going to be. But she had to try. He didn’t even bother to shake his head.
Arguing with you is as useless as trying to get out of your arms. Damn, you’re stubborn. Unfortunately, you’re also right. “It’s in the medicine cabinet.”
He grabbed the bottle and moved them to the bedroom, then he said, “Lay down on your stomach.”
“I’m okay standing.”
“Do you want this done right? Or do you want a trip to the emergency room?”
You really know what to say to get me to do what you want. It’s like bossy is your default. It’s kind of hot, but not right now. Hot? Really? Even in this situation I’m thinking he’s hot? Maybe they have a shot for these insane thoughts running through my mind.
Before she laid upon her bed, Mark placed a towel down to protect her sheets. If it were any other circumstance, she’d appreciate his thoughtfulness. But she didn’t care about sheets or shorts or anything else. All she could think was her bare butt was only inches away from his face. Don’t think of that. Think medical bills. Think of how foolish you were in the first place for entering the room. Think about . . . how he looked when he was holding up the beam. Every muscle defined. And how his biceps felt when he carried yo— “Ow! Sweet Jesus! Ow!” He continued to wipe the open cut with the alcohol-soaked cloth. “Are you trying to kill me?”
The burning was worse than she’d expected but no matter how she protested or tried to stop him, he held her in place and continued to clean the wound.
“Almost done.”
When she thought she couldn’t take any more, the torture ended. She didn’t remember when she stopped yelling at him and began sobbing, but her face was buried in her wet palms. It wasn’t just the pain. Everything seemed to be crashing down on her all at once. Getting hurt was just the i
cing on the cake.
Hannah hadn’t allowed herself to cry when her father died. She’d told herself to be strong. But the truth was she was tired of always being strong. Everything fell on her shoulders and the weight seemed unbearable now. I should give up. Walk away. Dad would understand. I am not strong enough. Never have been and never will be.
The tears flowed harder, and her body began to rock with sobs.
The hands that brought such pain stroked her back gently. Mark had somehow come to lie beside her. He pulled her up against him, so she now lay half on him with her head on his chest.
“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s over.”
No. It’s not. It’s far from over. As long as I’m here, it never will be. Hannah didn’t want to hold on to him. She wanted him out. Wanted to be alone. Yet she found herself clinging to him as she cried.
Dad. Please forgive me. I can’t do it. I don’t know how, and no matter how hard I try, the result will be the same. I’m going to lose this house and everything you worked for. You always thought I was stronger than I actually am. Why did you think I could do all this by myself? She couldn’t bear disappointing him. It had been his dying request that she keep the house, and one day raise a family of her own there. It was his dream, not hers, but she agreed, and now she couldn’t bring herself to give up. She also couldn’t continue to do it alone.
She felt a light kiss on her shoulder, and that snapped her back to the present. Hannah pulled herself off him and rolled over until she was able to stand up.
“Mark. I can’t do—”
“We weren’t doing anything,” he said, still lying on her bed.
Kissing my shoulder and pulling me into your arms is not nothing. She pulled up her pajama shorts again to cover her nakedness. She’d never been comfortable with her body before and even less now. With the wounds treated, there was no reason for him to be there. So why was he?
“I’m okay. You can go back to whatever you were doing before.”
She knew she sounded cold and unappreciative, but the last thing she wanted was to give him the wrong impression. Or maybe it was the right one, but either way, I don’t want him knowing I want him. That will only make it more awkward.
He got off her bed and stood by her side. “Why were you crying?”
She didn’t look up at him. Lying wasn’t something that came easily for her. “It hurt. That’s all.”
Mark stood there for a moment, and she was positive he was going to push the subject. Holding her breath as he moved, she waited for him to pull her into his arms and kiss her. But instead, he brushed past her and left her standing alone. This is good. This is what I want.
She grabbed the soiled towel off her bed and threw it on the floor, then went and laid down, pulling the sheet over her head. When was I last held in a man’s arms? Had it really been years ago? It felt so nice, so . . . safe. Sheltered. Less . . . alone.
Mark didn’t want to leave her, and that only angered him. He went into protective mode when he saw the blood. It was all instinct, and he never once had to think about what to do. It was no different than what he would’ve done for any of his men.
What wasn’t natural was his reaction to her. His heart was pounding when she was crying. He could’ve held her forever and wanted to promise her the world if it’d stop what was hurting her. She might’ve said it was the alcohol, but he knew that wasn’t the only thing.
If she would’ve opened up to him, he would’ve been lost. He wasn’t sure if he was glad she shut him off or not. Warm and fuzzy empathy isn’t really in my wheelhouse, so I stay far away from such situations. I’d probably be useless anyway.
When Mark re-entered the second-floor apartment, Don was sitting on the beam waiting.
He wasn’t in the mood for any jokes, not even Don’s. His emotional state was unexpected. Blood wasn’t an issue for him. He’d seen plenty of it and patched up wounds that would make a trauma nurse cringe. So what had shaken him about a small puncture wound? The answer didn’t please him. Mark was a man, and everything in him wanted her. That was a physical reaction that could easily be explained. That, however, didn’t explain why he’d felt a punch in his gut when he felt the blood on his hand or why he felt the need to hold her while she cried.
Mark didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve for people to see, but he knew it would be different with Don. For better or worse neither of them could bullshit the other. He had no choice but to prepare himself for some of Don’s harassing, and by the look on his face, it wasn’t going to be long before it started.
“Heard some screaming down there. I was almost tempted to see if you needed my help.”
And it begins. “Thought you’d have that beam up by now.”
“Are you kidding me? You expected me to work while you were downstairs having all the fun?”
“She was hurt. I was just making sure she was okay.”
Don laughed. “If I hadn’t come in when I did there wouldn’t be any work getting done in this place. Don’t blame you. She’s easy on the eyes and the way she was looking at you . . . Damn. It was like you were one sweet tasty dessert, and she was hungry.” The way she was looking at me?
Mark normally could laugh at such things but something was different. Hannah wasn’t the type of woman to make lewd comments about.
“Leave it alone, Don.”
Of course, Don didn’t listen. He never did. He enjoyed pushing Mark’s buttons, which usually didn’t get him very far. It took a lot to get a reaction out of him. Mark knew it was more about what was going on inside him than anything Don was saying. At least, Hannah isn’t around to endure Don’s pathetic jokes.
“And the look on your face when you saw she was bleeding. I wish I’d had a camera. Trust me; you weren’t the controlled Mark that you always are. Can’t believe I was here to witness it.”
Neither can I. “Are you planning on talking all morning or can we start this job?”
Don got off the beam and picked up his tool belt. “I can multi-task. Besides, giving you shit will help me forget how fucking hot this place is.”
“I warned you about the air conditioner.”
“How low on the list is that or can we sneak it up here? Remember, I’ve been off the job for a few years now.”
“Yeah, I can tell; you’re out of shape,” Mark teased, but Don probably spent half his day working out.
“I seem to remember you complaining about the beam earlier. Maybe you need to hit the gym yourself. But you had no problem swooping Hannah off her feet, did you?”
So close to changing the damn subject. “Give it a rest.”
“Hit a nerve, did I?” Don raised his hands as if pushing him wasn’t wise. “Easy, Mark. It was an observation. Okay? There’s no connection between you and Hannah. It’s possible I was wrong.” Don mumbled under his breath, “But I wasn’t.”
Mark wasn’t sure if Don had meant for him to hear that last comment or not. Giving him another warning wasn’t going to change one damn thing. Don did and said whatever he wanted. He would’ve been hell to deal with in the military. Honestly, he wouldn’t have lasted a day. But as a friend, he made life interesting. If it hadn’t been for Don and his sense of humor, he might’ve snapped after those first few missions. He had a knack for taking a situation and ripping the stress right out of it. Probably what you’re trying to do right now. But stress isn’t what I’m feeling. And what I need isn’t something he can help me with.
He might be near Don, but Hannah was first and foremost in his mind. He’d never faced such distraction. If one of his men was in this mindset, he’d tell him to get his head out of his ass and get back to business. There was no room for this in their line of duty. It’s what made men get wounded, or worse, killed. He hadn’t been there even a week, yet somehow she’d found a way past his defenses. Mark wasn’t sure how it happened, but it was the first and hopefully the last time.
It has to be. There can’t be anything more than business b
etween us. He bent down and grabbed the sledge hammer. Breaking something sounded great. “Then let’s get this job done and get out of here. I have places to be.” Any place other than here. Damn. I’d prefer sleeping on the hot desert sand than alone in my bed just two doors away from hers.
Chapter Five
The remainder of the day Hannah hid in her bedroom. Partially because she couldn’t bring herself to face Mark, and the rest because she never imagined how one small puncture wound could be so painful. Although she wasn’t happy when Mark cleaned it, she was grateful it wouldn’t get infected. As she got dressed for work, she was regretting she’d agreed to cover the early morning shift. It meant being up at four to get there by five a.m. With little sleep last night, this would’ve been a perfect day to sleep in.
She grabbed her purse and searched for her keys. Normally she left them in the car so she didn’t have to search for them. Since Mark had drilled safety into her head, she found herself doing things she hadn’t done since living in Providence with Bailey.
Maybe I should give her a call today. She’s wanted to come for a visit. Might as well let her before I lose this place. Besides, I’m totally outnumbered with all this male testosterone suddenly present. Time to even things out a bit.
Hannah opened her bedroom door gently, hoping not to make any noise. Since she hadn’t heard any noise above her, she assumed Mark and Don caught the hint about waiting until daybreak before starting repairs. Not that I don’t want it done, but seven to seven is long enough.
As she left her room, she couldn’t stop herself from turning toward his room. The door was closed. Good. Stay there till I’m gone. I need to start this day off on a good note, not a lusty one.
Hannah tiptoed down the hall and exited the house. She saw the lights on in her tenant’s apartment as she sat in her car. Strange. Strange. That man never seems to sleep. When she first met Jason three months ago, he’d been a sweet, polite young man. She hadn’t felt uncomfortable at all. He was attractive, but he didn’t affect her like Mark. She’d tried talking to him when he first moved in, but he seemed . . . lost, but not unsettled. That’s how she’d felt since her father died, so she didn’t push the issue. Giving someone the space they want was sometimes the best thing. Although she was in and out often, she’d only seen him leave the apartment once, and that was very late at night. Hannah wasn’t one to judge another only on odd or strange behavior. She thought about the comment Mark made about him. Should I have done more checks? No. Don’t think about it. He pays his rent; that’s all you need to be concerned about.
Southern Exposure (Southern Desires Series Book 2) Page 6