“Sorry. I was a paramedic for a while,” he said, his eyes on my leg. His fingers felt along my ankle bone, my shin, up to my knee. His touch was gentle, almost kind, and I found myself staring at the top of his shaved head as he knelt on the floor below me.
Is it protocol to sleep with your bodyguard? To get to know him better?
“I don’t think anything’s broken. Might be a mild sprain.”
I hoped to hell he wasn’t a mind reader. “Ah, well, that’s good.” My cheeks burned.
He climbed up beside me on the couch and helped me position the makeshift ice pack on my leg. “Leave it on for fifteen minutes at a time,” he said. “Then take it off for another fifteen. Ice it at least once more before you go to bed.” He glanced over, his gaze catching mine. “You feel okay? Not woozy or anything?”
I nodded, not sure which question I was answering. Sitting this close to him, I could see flecks of color and light in his pupils. They weren’t almost-black after all, but a pool of shadows. Desire slid through me, hot and heavy. I wanted to dive into that pool and find out what lay below the surface.
“I’ll get you some water,” he said, but he didn’t get up right away. His cheeks flushed. A tiny muscle along his jaw tensed, and I wondered if he felt the same things I did.
His gaze met mine, solid and strong. For a crazy moment I thought he might kiss me, and I thought I might let him, even though kissing this man would be like diving into fire. Still, I knew I’d do it. I’d lean into it and lose myself inside him. He’d draw me into those strong, tattooed arms and every inch of me would spiral down into wanting him.
Then Bruno hacked.
Rafe blinked, and the moment was gone.
Bruno hacked again, and Rafe got up and flicked on the light. Then my great, gorgeous, annoying cat hacked a third time, and like it was the charm, threw up an enormous hairball all over my bodyguard’s shoes.
9
“I am so, so sorry.”I handed Rafe a wad of paper towels.
“It’s okay,” he said as he mopped his shoes. “I’ve had worse things happen in the line of duty.”
The line of duty. Right.
The words were a dash of cold water, a reminder that he was my bodyguard and nothing more. Whatever vibe I’d imagined between us was clearly just my imagination running wild.
“You should get some sleep,” he said and gave Bruno a wide berth on his way to the door.
“Thanks,” I said as I limped behind him. “For, you know, helping me tonight.”
He gave me a long look, and I realized even without the mirrored sunglasses, I had no idea what he was thinking. He’d been tailing me for days yet I knew almost nothing about him, this strong, silent enigma whose sole purpose was protecting me. He could’ve been attracted to me, or angry with me, or about to sacrifice Bruno, or just thinking about what he’d read when he got home. I had no idea.
“You’re welcome,” he finally said, and was gone.
I spentthe next day in bed. I’d fallen asleep sometime after two, but I tossed and turned and every time I rolled onto my side the pain in my ankle woke me again. I got up around six, took some aspirin, and crawled back into the sheets until noon. The sunlight, along with Bruno’s pitiful cries for food, finally pulled me from sleep. I squinted and felt around the bedside table for my phone. Good Lord, my head was killing me.Stupid martinis.
How are u feeling?Remy had texted hours ago. That was followed byCall me,then bySeriously r u OK????, and finallyIf ur dead I’m not planning the funeral.
Gee, some best friend she was.
I drank some water, hobbled to the bathroom, and winced at the mess looking back at me from the mirror. I hadn’t taken off last night’s makeup, which was now smeared down my cheeks. My hair stood up on one side and was mashed down on the other. My shoulder sported a bruise and I had wrinkle marks all over my neck and chest.
I’m alive, I texted Remy.Hungover but alive.
She sent back a series of thumbs-up and laughing faces, without an ounce of pity.Call me when ur up to it.
I turned the phone facedown on the sink, thought about taking a shower, and instead just washed my face and brushed my teeth. I fed Bruno, fed myself, and spent the rest of the day icing my ankle and watching sappy movies on television. Hey, if I couldn’t have a happy ending in my own life, I might as well watch it in someone else’s, right?
By Friday morningI was feeling better. Icing my ankle religiously had worked, because I only felt a little twinge when I put my full weight on it. I wrapped it up with a bandage and made my way to Tunes & ‘Tudes, hoping Angela and Dani would show. If they didn’t, I’d have to shift my mistress dispelling tactics into high gear – not that I knew what that might look like.
At five o’clock I was wiping down the bar and setting glasses on shelves. At five-oh-five, Rafe was in position by the door. He put one hand on his hip, and I realized for the first time that he was probably armed. I don’t know why that hadn’t occurred to me before. A shiver of part-fear, part-thrill, passed through me.
“Should I pay him?” Charlie asked me in a stage whisper. “I feel like I should pay him. I mean, he’s practically doubling as a bouncer.”
