by Terri Reed
At least he’d managed to save her life.
“Yes, he’s gone. You’re safe.” He cupped her face.
“Thank God you’re all right.”
“God didn’t save me. You did.”
He shook his head. “Make no mistake. God saved you. Because He loves you.”
Her gaze shifted away. Clearly she didn’t share his opinion. It hurt to think she didn’t believe what he’d said. Whatever else Ben did, he was going to make sure she knew just how much God loved her.
The sound of the ambulance arriving halted additional conversation. Ben helped Corinna to her feet. Together they met the paramedics and the police. He wasn’t surprised to see Daniel and Anderson arrive. He knew the rest of the Rangers were tied up on other cases.
After having his broken nose set and bandaged, Ben gave a description of the perp to the responding officers. Then he checked with the paramedics, who assured him Corinna’s bruises would heal. There’d been no permanent damage to her throat, and her momentary loss of consciousness was due to lack of oxygen. Though she’d have a headache for a while, she’d be fine.
They released them both with the promise that they’d follow up with their respective doctors.
After briefing the two Rangers, Ben drove Corinna to Gisella’s. The house was dark when they arrived. No one answered when he knocked. Corinna let them in with the spare key Gisella had given her. She’d changed her clothes before leaving the dance studio, and now wore a lightweight sweat suit that covered her from neck to ankle but still managed to make her look tiny and breakable and yet very feminine. She appealed to Ben on so many levels. Levels best unexplored.
Collecting his thoughts, he called Gisella’s cell phone. She answered on the third ring. “Hernandez.”
“It’s Ben. We’re at your house.”
“Did you get my message?”
He sighed. In all the commotion, he hadn’t thought to check. “No. What’s up?”
“I’m at the office filling out the paperwork on the hostage situation. Perp was taken out. All hostages were recovered unharmed.”
“Good.” He told her what had transpired at the dance studio.
“You’re both okay?” she asked, her voice heavy with concern.
“Yeah. I’ll wait here with Corinna until you arrive.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Gisella promised before hanging up.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”
“I’m okay with that.” Corinna met his gaze. A smoldering fire lit the dark depths of her eyes.
His pulse jumped. His gaze dropped to her mouth where she worried the velvety softness of her full bottom lip with her straight white teeth. The yearning to kiss her grabbed a hold of him.
She leaned against the back of the couch, as if she needed the piece of furniture to hold her up.
Forcing himself to push away the current of attraction pulling at him, he said, “Maybe you should go lie down.”
Her lips twisted in a wry grimace. “I couldn’t sleep right now if I wanted to. My nerves are shot. How did that guy get in?”
Aching with regret at all she’d suffered, he said, “He pried open the locker-room window. It won’t happen again.”
“Where’s my gun? You never gave it back to me.”
He frowned. “Locked up. I’ll protect you.”
She gave him a pointed look. “You can’t be everywhere at once. I need to be able to defend myself.”
His gut clenched. “You could too easily be overpowered and the gun used against you. Or you could hurt someone and have to live with that for the rest of your life. Even when it’s a bad guy, shooting someone takes a toll. Self-defense classes would better serve you.”
She contemplated his words. Then nodded. “I’ll look into some. I did take a class years ago. But a refresher course would be good.” Her gaze landed on the bandage across his nose. “Does it hurt?”
He shrugged. “It’s just a broken nose. I’ve had them before. It’ll heal.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You’ve had your nose broken more than once before? What happened?”
Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation because he didn’t want to probe old wounds, he said, “Are you hungry? I’m sure I can find something to make.”
He headed into the kitchen. She followed, obviously not about to relent. “Was it on the job?”
“One time.”
“How many more times?”
“A couple.” He turned away to search the cupboards. He laid out a bowl, a fry pan and a whisk.
Which would make this the fourth time he’d had his nose broken, she thought. That couldn’t be good. Curiosity rose, prompting her to ask, “When did the other two times happen?”
He rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out eggs, scallions and mushrooms. “When I was a kid.”
“Did you fall or something?”
“No.” He cracked eggs into a bowl and whipped them up.
“A fight, then?”
“Yeah, sort of.” Keeping his gaze on his task, he began chopping the vegetables.
Corinna tapped her foot. Why the evasive answer? “Sort of? How can you sort of be in a fight?”
When he glanced up, his expression clearly stated he didn’t want to delve into this. “Leave it alone.”
She really should. She hadn’t wanted to be drawn emotionally to him. She’d tried to set a boundary the day he’d come to the shelter and watched her teach. The way he’d been with sweet little Gretchen had melted her heart and made her realize she needed to stay far away from him. She was beginning to see he was the type of man she could fall for. In a big way. The type of man who could break her heart. And she’d been right to think getting too close was a bad idea. Look how she’d behaved when he’d come to the studio. She’d practically thrown herself at him and he’d rejected her again.
But he’d saved her life and suffered an injury for her sake. That counted for a lot.
And she was curious about him. What had her father seen in Ben that made him take the teen under his wing all those years ago?
She didn’t know much about his upbringing, only that he had no family, which was why her father had always invited him to share in their holidays. After her mother’s death, her dad had been all she’d had. Being forced to share him with the interloper had chafed at her already wounded heart.
She’d stubbornly refused to take an interest in Ben. She felt bad about that now. But she couldn’t undo her selfish, childish behavior. She could only move forward. “Who did you fight with?”
He dumped the eggs in the buttered, sizzling fry pan. “You really want to know?”
She nodded.
As he fluffed the eggs while slowly dropping in the scallions and mushrooms and spices he’d found in the cupboard, he sighed. “The first time with another foster kid. He was three years older and mean. He didn’t like that I said no when he wanted my food.”
She hadn’t known he’d grown up in foster care. Her dad had never told her. Compassion infused her, questions bombarded her mind. “How old were you?”
“Eight.”
A deep ache squeezed her chest until she could barely breathe. Eight? Still just a baby. She couldn’t imagine. “What happened to your parents?”
He took two plates from a cupboard and set them on the counter. “Both dead.”
She put her hand to her mouth as tears welled. “I’m so sorry.”
He divided up the eggs without so much as glancing at her. “Don’t be. My father was a drug dealer, killed during a bad deal. My mother was a junkie. She ODed when I was five.”
“While you were at school?” Please let him say yes.
“No. I found her when I got up one morning.”
Her hand covered her heart. “Oh, no. That’s horrible.”
He shrugged. “Since I was already deemed at risk because of my mom’s drug use, when I didn’t come to school for three days, child prote
ctive services came knocking.”
Sympathy gripped her, filling her with the desire to reach out to touch him, offer some sort of comfort. “I’m so sorry. That must have been devastating.”
“I survived.”
The matter-of-fact way he spoke ripped her up inside. He couldn’t be that well-adjusted, could he?
He’d been so young. So alone.
She thought back to when her father had brought Ben around for the first time. At nineteen there’d been something dark and dangerous about him. Now she understood. He was an orphan, raised in a system that didn’t always work. That left scars.
“How can you speak of this without any emotion?”
He cocked his head. “What should I feel? Sorry for myself?”
She couldn’t imagine this man feeling self-pity. He was too self assured, too pragmatic. But she’d expect sorrow at the very least. “Do you remember your parents?”
He gave a slow nod. A flash of sadness darkened his eyes. He wasn’t as unfeeling as he wanted her to believe. “I do. I have a few clear memories, some good. Some bad.”
“I hope I never lose my memories,” she stated, aching for him and for herself. She had no problem indulging in a bout of self-pity. She struggled to keep from sliding down that road.
Ben came around the counter and took her hand. “You won’t. I’ll help you to remember.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’ll hold you to that.”
A noise at the front door raised the hair at the back of her neck. “It’s Gisella.”
Ben tugged her off the stool and around the counter, positioning himself in front of her. “We can’t be sure.” He unholstered his weapon, his hand covering the grip, his finger hovering over the trigger.
Corinna latched on to Ben’s arm. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers.
The front door swung open. Gisella walked in and drew up short when she saw them. “Whoa. You didn’t tell me you had a busted nose.”
With relief, Corinna stepped out from behind Ben and proudly said, “He saved my life.”
Red crept up Ben’s neck. “Just doing my job.” He picked up a plate and handed it to Corinna. “You got here quick. Just in time for some food.”
“No traffic.” Gisella, looking a bit stunned, moved into the kitchen. Her gaze rested on Corinna. “Was it the same guy from the house?”
Corinna nodded and set the plate of steaming eggs on the counter in front of Gisella. “We think so.”
“He in custody?”
Ben shook his head. “Nope. Got away.”
Catching this guy was personal on many levels for Ben. Corinna could only imagine the disappointment running through him. She touched his arm. “You’ll get him.”
He met her gaze. Guilt brightened his hazel eyes. “I should have shot him when I had the chance.”
Cocking her head, she asked, “Why didn’t you?”
Gentleness softened his expression. “I didn’t want to risk hitting you.”
She was touched and a little disconcerted that he had put her welfare over capturing a criminal. Had his feelings for her grown deeper than just wanting to do his job? “Well, I thank you.”
Their gazes held. For a moment, she thought she saw affection in his eyes. She was still trying to sort out what she felt. Gratitude for sure. That was easy to admit to.
“This smells delicious,” Gisella interjected. “Thanks. To…?” Her questioning gaze danced between Ben and Corinna.
Corinna gestured with her fork at Ben. “Him.”
Gisella looked impressed. “Who knew you could cook.”
Ben frowned. “It’s just eggs.”
Gisella set her Stetson to the side. “You’d be surprised how many guys don’t even know how to make simple scrambled eggs without burning them. Or wouldn’t think to add veggies.” She dug her fork into the fluffy concoction. “Mmm.”
Corinna took a few bites. The eggs tasted good, but her stomach churned as soon as the food hit bottom. She set her fork down to drink some water.
“You’re not eating,” Ben admonished.
“My tummy’s upset,” she said.
Ben and Gisella exchanged a look that Corinna couldn’t quite name. “What was that?”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “What was what?”
This was worse than being in the principal’s office in grade school. Her father and Principal Kaplan had exchanged looks that spoke of private conversations revolving around her. That same sort of look had just passed between Ben and Gisella. Wagging her index finger between the two, she said, “That look.”
Gisella grimaced.
Ben met her gaze directly. “We’re concerned. You haven’t been eating or sleeping well. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”
She felt slightly betrayed because he couldn’t know any of that unless Gisella was reporting to him. It didn’t matter he was Gisella’s boss while on the job. Corinna just hadn’t realized living here would be part of Gisella’s job time. How irritating to know her life was so scrutinized.
“I’m a big girl.” What made him think he had some say in her life, anyway? “I can take care of myself. I know my limits and my limitations. I don’t need either one of you mothering me.”
Ben held up his hands, palms out. “Whoa. Calm down.”
Insulted by his condescending tone, Corinna straightened to her full five feet four inches. “I am calm.”
Gisella rose, care and concern on her face plain to read. “Corinna, we’re not trying to mother you. We care about you.”
“Because you have to,” Corinna muttered, wondering if they’d be so considerate if she weren’t Captain Pike’s daughter. She knew Ben wouldn’t. He’d already confessed his attention was the byproduct of a promise. Who knew he’d end up being such an honorable guy? Or that she’d find herself wishing he’d see her as more than just an obligation. A duty. A debt repaid.
Suddenly very tired and overwrought, she said, “I’m going to say good night now.”
“I’m here if you need anything,” Gisella said, her gaze echoing the sincerity in her voice.
Deciding that Gisella’s concern was genuine, Corinna smiled her thanks.
Ben came to her side and gathered her hands in his. Warmth traveled up her arms and spread throughout her body.
“I’m not going to let that guy get anywhere near you again. I promise.”
The heartfelt determination in his tone touched Corinna. Was he being driven by more than just his duty or need to repay a debt? He seemed to be taking her safety personally, as if she really mattered on a heart level.
And did she care if his attention was something deeper? She honestly didn’t know, and really wasn’t in any frame of mind to examine her feelings too closely.
Confused, she tugged her hands free and backed away with a quick good-night. She hoped in the light of day her feelings would become clear. One way or another.
TEN
The next morning, Ben arrived at Gisella’s house just as the female Ranger and Corinna were getting into Gisella’s vehicle. His heart gave a little jolt at the sight of Corinna, so young and fresh. The epitome of good ness and light.
Shaking off the strange effect she had on him, Ben climbed from his Jeep and started walking toward the ladies. The quiet September morning was heavy with humidity. Overhead birds flew in a V formation across a blue sky.
Gisella leaned on the open door of her car while Corinna walked toward him as he came up the drive. His gaze roamed over her, appreciating the view.
In deference to the day’s coming heat, the pale yellow summer dress Corinna had chosen to wear showed her curves to advantage, reminding him how those curves felt pressed against him. Her dark hair was up in its customary bun at the nape of her slender neck.
Sometimes he wished she’d let her hair fall loose about her shoulders. His fingers itched to feel the silky softness. Her dark eyes regarded him with curiosity and something else he couldn’t quite identify, making him curious as to what
she really thought of him.
He didn’t see the familiar coldness or the haughtiness that had always made him feel that she found him lacking.
“Good morning.” She halted in front of him, blocking the way. “Why are you here?”
He touched the brim of his Stetson. “Morning. I thought I’d take you to breakfast before you hit the studio.”
Mild surprise crinkled the corners of her mouth.
“That is, if you haven’t already eaten,” he added, though he’d be surprised if she said yes.
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t eaten.”
Confirming his suspicion.
For a split second she seemed to contemplate his plan. “Where would you like to go?”
Pleasantly surprised, he said, “I know this great little café on the Riverwalk that makes the best French crepes this side of the Atlantic.”
Cleary intrigued, she said, “Really? How did you know I love crepes?”
A twinge of sadness made his smile falter. “Your father.”
“He told you?” Tears welled in her eyes.
He nodded. “He made them every Sunday after church, right?”
With a soft sigh, she said, “Right.”
“Today’s not Sunday, but I thought…”
“That would be nice,” Corinna said.
Gisella cleared her throat, drawing their attention. “What’s the plan, guys?”
Ben glanced over at her. “She’s coming with me.”
Gisella’s knowing smile made heat crawl up his neck. Why was he feeling embarrassed? He was just doing his job. Taking Corinna to breakfast fell under the header of protection. Shoving his discomfort away, he took Corinna’s dance bag and led her to his Jeep.
Twenty minutes later they arrived at the café on the Riverwalk. An interesting establishment with dark wood paneling and large glossy photos of France decorating the walls.
“We’ll sit inside,” Ben told the hostess who greeted them at the reception desk.
“No, we won’t. We’ll sit outside,” Corinna countered. She wanted to enjoy the early morning sunshine.
“You’d be too exposed out there,” Ben said, his gaze rife with meaning.
The last thing she wanted was him hovering over her like some snarling beast, hyperaware of any perceived threat. That was no way to live. “I’m not living my life in fear. I’ll take my chances.” She walked past him, out to the patio seating area, forcing him to follow.