“I’m not leaving you. I’ll call my boss while we’re waiting for the doctor to let him know we’ll be late, but I’m not leaving you while you’re hurt. I know you can take care of yourself, but it doesn’t mean you have to. Come on. Let’s get inside.”
She had no argument left in her, so she allowed him to help her from the SUV. He urged her to go ahead of him toward the clinic, but she hesitated.
“So how bad is it really? I know I need stitches, but will it keep me from working? I can’t afford that.”
He pushed her hair behind her ear, his gaze softening. “It’s a deep cut, and it’ll probably limit you some. The doctor will be able to tell you more, so try not to worry until you get his instructions. It may not be as bad as I think.”
She nodded, but she didn’t believe him. He was trying to make her feel better, but she would rather have had a second kiss than a half-truth from him.
Oh, that kiss.For a moment, she’d forgotten she was in pain. She’d forgotten a lot of things, like where she was or why she was there. The kiss rocked her, and she had to admit her attraction to him was stronger than she thought. He was hot, but he wasalso kind and charming. His kiss, however brief it had been, was lethal, which made him dangerous to her peace of mind.
She should keep her distance, but it was hard not to be glad he’d stayed with her.
Chapter Seven
Ben drove his Tahoe where Charlotte instructed him before she fell asleep. He drove to the end of the driveway at the address she’d given him. Switching off the engine, he shifted in his seat to study his passenger. Her head rested against the headrest, facing him. Soft snores punctuated her breathing. Her bandaged hand rested in her lap while the other was trapped between her body and the seat.
Her blond hair fell in a curtain to shield her face. He gave into the temptation to lightly push the tendrils back over her shoulder, noting how silky the strands felt against his fingers. Her inky lashes brushed against her cheeks, creating an oddly fascinating contrast. Her lips were slightly parted and glistened as if her tongue had just swiped over them.
Something stirred within his chest, and he chalked it up to relief that she was no longer in pain. He hadn’t joined her in the exam room out of respect for her privacy, but she’d given the doctor permission to update him on her care. The cut stretched along her joint deep enough to require two layers of stitches to seal the wound and restrict movement. The doctor had ordered something to manage her pain while they applied her stitches, but with the injury to her dominant hand, she would have a difficult time with everyday activities.
She had wanted to retrieve her car and drive herself home after the doctor released her, but Ben insisted on taking her home. He suspected she was still under the influence of the pain meds since she didn’t offer much of a protest. Now that they were here, he loathed to wake her.
Through the windshield, he eyed the steps leading up to her garage apartment. They were wide and evenly spaced, so he could carry her. She would hate it, but he rather liked the idea. He would have to somehow get the key from her though, and he wasn’t sure he could do that without waking her.
As he contemplated his next move, he noticed someone stepping from the house. With one more glance to ensure Charlotte was still asleep, he quietly opened the door and stepped out.
“Hello,” he greeted.
The woman eyed him critically behind the large lenses of her glasses. If she measured over five feet tall, Ben would be surprised. She carried herself with a careful elegance like a woman who only moved when it was necessary. Her dark gray hair framed her round, wrinkled face, but her bright blue eyes were sharp as they regarded him.
“How is she?”
Ben glanced at Charlotte before eyeing the woman again. “You know what happened?”
“Wally called. I’m Birdie Miller. She rents the apartment from me.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Miller. My name is Ben Weston. I met Charlotte at the—”
“Motel,” Birdie finished for him. “Most men wouldn’t help the woman who gave him two black eyes and a broken nose.”
Ben smiled. “I’m not like most people.”
“We’ll see.”
Ben wasn’t sure what the hidden meaning was behind her words, but he decided not to concern himself with it. He walked around the front of his SUV and stopped, his hands settling on his hips.
“The cut was deep enough for her to need two layers of stitches. The inner layer will dissolve on its own. She has to keep the outer layer dry for the next forty-eight hours, and then she has care instructions to keep it clean and treated with ointment. The biggest concern is infection, so she’ll have to be careful until she goes back to the doctor to have the outer layer of stitches removed. They gave her something for pain while she was at the clinic, but she can manage with over-the-counter meds from now on. She was pretty tired when it was all said and done and fell asleep on the way home.”
Birdie nodded as if none of the information was a surprise. The woman watched him with an assessing stare, and Ben had an odd sensation that she knew everything about him, including the truth about his identity. There was no way she could know that, but Ben decided Birdie Miller was someone he had to be very careful around.
“I was about to help her get settled in her apartment,” Ben added.
“Bring her in here for now. I’ll watch over her while she rests, and then she can go to the apartment when she’s ready.”
Birdie turned and shuffled back inside the house, leaving the door wide open. Ben wasn’t sure whether to laugh or run screaming from the odd woman, but since caring for Charlotte was his priority, the choice was taken out of his hands.
Charlotte stirred when he opened the passenger door. She turned groggy eyes to meet his, and he felt the power of those unusual eyes punch him in the gut. He waited until the remnants of sleep fell away, and she sat up straighter, wincing when she moved her injured hand.
