Arabella
In the end, we didn’t drive for very long. By the time we left the diner, it was already nine o’clock in the evening. Within a few hours, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. Taking pity on me, Brodie got off the interstate at Madras, and then pulled into the back lot of a dingy motel. The place didn’t look like it was fit for rats, but I didn’t have my purse on me so I couldn’t get us anything better. God, I’d left everything behind in Portland. What was I going to do without my ID and my gun?
“Give me yer hands, lass,” Brodie commanded, turning his big body in the driver’s seat to face me. The moonlight filtering in through the windshield struck the side of his face, highlighting his strong cheekbone and hard jaw in a way that was absolutely arresting.
“What for?” I asked, my pulse jumping. Something about the way the light bounced off his copper hair and made his green eyes sparkle brought an ease to me that I didn’t quite understand. Maybe I was tired. Maybe the events of the past twenty-four hours were finally getting to me. Or maybe I was just starting to trust the guy. He had saved me, pulled me from the bowels of hell, and even fed me. Shouldn’t I be nicer to him?
“What’s the matter, lass? Don’t ye trust me?” Brodie held his hands out, palm up, then beckoned me with curled fingers. I placed my hands in his own, and a tingle shot through them as his warm, rough skin met mine. The strength in those big hands was obvious, and yet he was so gentle as he wrapped his fingers around mine.
“Don’t be scared,” he murmured as the tingling sensation grew, spreading throughout my entire body.
“I’m not,” I said slowly, my voice sounding very far away. It was as if those deep eyes were putting me in a trance. I felt as if I were floating, without a single care in the world. “What are you doing?”
“Healing ye,” Brodie said gently. “I did some while ye were asleep, but I was low on energy from not eating so I didn’t get it all. Can’t ye feel it? All those bruises and scrapes that bastard put ye through, they’re gone now. Like they never happened.”
A wave of soothing energy passed through me, and I let out a moan of relief. My body trembled a little, but for once, it was in a good way. Whatever Brodie was doing to me, it was amazing. I felt better, stronger, newer. Almost as if the accident had never happened.
“Thank you,” I said when the sensation passed. I left my hands in his even though I knew I ought to pull away. Those warm, strong fingers felt good wrapped against mine—comforting and… more.
“Don’t mention it, lass,” Brodie answered. His forefinger traced the back of my left palm, sending a whole different kind of tingle through me. “Just another trick in my Druid bag.”
“You got any other tricks I should know about?” I asked coyly. Damn, I was actually flirting with him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” That seductive smirk curved his lips, making my stomach flip-flop. Suddenly, I wanted to run my hands up those muscular arms to see just how far those tattoos went. Did they continue over his chest, beneath his shirt? I licked my lips at the thought of lifting the hem of his cotton tee to find out.
Brodie’s nostrils flared, as if he could scent the change in my mood. He drifted closer, and I held my breath as the air between us heated. Those emerald eyes dipped to my now-wet lips, and my heart stuttered. God, was he actually going to kiss me?
“It’s late,” he said, and my heart sank in disappointment as he pulled away. “Why don’t ye stay here in the car, where it’s warm, while I get us some rooms for the night?”
“Okay.” I fell mute as he squeezed my hand. Once he left the vehicle, I watched him walk around the building toward the front office, my heart a jumbled mess of emotions. Jesus, did he have to walk with such a sexy swagger? My eyes were glued to his back… or more specifically, his backside. Buns of steel poured into denim, they were just begging for a squeeze.
You’re being ridiculous, I told myself. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t keep my mind of Brodie’s delicious body.
It’s probably the stress, I decided. Yeah, that made sense. I’d been through so much today, seen so many crazy and terrifying things, that my mind was latching onto something pleasurable to distract it. And oh, I just bet Brodie would do a great job of distracting me if I asked.
Then why did he pull away?a doubtful voice in my head asked. He felt the chemistry too—it was obvious. So why did he choose not to act on it?
My heart twisted a little at that.Maybe he’s the honorable sort, I thought. He was here to protect me, so maybe that was why he wouldn’t sleep with me. Just because he made that joke in the diner didn’t mean he was actually going to act on it.
The door opened, and I started. “I’m afraid there’s but one room, lass,” Brodie said, leaning inside the car. The cold evening air breezed in with him, surrounding me with his earthy, masculine scent, and I sat up straighter. “We’re going to have to share for the night.”
I shrugged, as if the thought of spending the night with Brodie didn’t send a bolt of heat through me. “I’m fine with sleeping on the floor,” I told him as I got out of the car.
“Ye’ll do no such thing,” Brodie insisted as he escorted me to our room. My lips twitched—he sounded highly offended. “Just what kind of man do ye think I am?”
“A scoundrel,” I declared as he unlocked the door. “And an unapologetic one at that.”
He laughed as we entered the room. As I’d suspected, it only had one bed, with a small couch next to the dresser that doubled as a TV stand. The carpet was threadbare, and the walls stained with a yellowish tint from too many cigarettes smoked. There was a narrow closet toward the back of the room. Across from that, there was a bathroom with cracked floor tiles and towels that were fraying at the ends. Jeez, was it even legal to provide such crummy service?
“Are ye planning on showering now, lass, or can I jump in there?” Brodie called from the bedroom.
“Uh, sure. I tend to take long showers, so you should go first.” I dropped the towel, then stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see Brodie stripping his shirt off. My mouth went dry as he rolled the black cotton tee up to reveal a hard, defined six pack, but any desire evaporated at the sight of the huge, purple bruise across it.
“Is that because of me?” I asked, my stomach squirming with guilt. I hadn’t even considered that he might be injured.
Brodie paused, glancing down at the bruise. “Aye,” he said, and my stomach plummeted. “Must have been during our bout in the forest. Ye’ve quite a wallop on ye.”
I shook my head. “I’m not that strong.”
