“You said you had ‘spells’. I took that to mean something like a trance--not dashing to the bathroom to be sick.”
Anna reddened. “Oh. Well, I do.”
“What was it with the trunk?”
She shuddered. “You don’t really want to know--but you don’t want it.”
He nodded. “I think you’ve had enough for one day. I’ll walk you to your car.”
Instantly, an image of her ‘car’ filled her mind. “That’s ok. I’m fine now.”
Ignoring her assurance that she was perfectly capable of finding her way to her car by herself, he escorted her outside. “It’s dark. It’ll be safer if I walk you.”
“Oh, but I don’t want you to go to all that trouble. Really, I’ll be fine. I parked close,” she lied.
“Where?”
Damn but the man was single minded. She glanced around the parking lot. She could see her rattle trap from the door of the auditorium. It was still parked between the two expensive vehicles.
He wasn’t going to let her save face, she realized dismally.
“Why don’t you just watch me from here?” she asked a little desperately.
“So I can scream for help if somebody grabs you?” he asked dryly.
If she hadn’t been so upset, she would’ve laughed at the image of Simon ringing his hands and screaming for help. She could see he was really suspicious now, though, and she was sorry she’d objected to start with. If she’d just gone ahead and let him walk her to the damned car she could’ve pretended it didn’t bother her. Now he’d know the minute he saw the piece of junk why she hadn’t wanted him to walk her to it.
It was just her sorry damned luck that she had to meet up with the last chivalrous man in the world! It was sweet of him to be concerned, but damned inconvenient.
Seeing nothing for it, she stalked across the parking lot, leading the way. She was tempted to pretend one of the cars between the auditorium and hers was her car, but she had a bad feeling that he would wait and watch while she tried to get in.
It was bad enough that she had to crawl in from the passenger side, but then the stupid car took forever to start. It backfired when the engine finally caught. Several people in the parking lot ducked, apparently laboring under the impression that it was a gun shot. They probably screamed too, but fortunately the car was making so much noise Anna didn’t hear it.
Simon’s face was grim when he tapped on her window. The glass fell off the track when she rolled it down.
Pulling his money clip from one pocket, he counted out several hundred dollars. “Get a tune up.”
Anna was so humiliated she felt like crying. She ignored the money he waved under her nose. “Thanks. I’ll do that as soon as I get paid.”
“This is an advance. You can’t get to work without a car.”
“I could always walk.”
His brows rose. “You live within walking distance of the shop?” he asked doubtfully.
She gnawed her lip.
He dropped the bills in her lap. “Wait for me. I’m going to follow you home.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Anna muttered, but it was too late. He’d disappeared almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
As soon as he disappeared in the darkness, she jerked the car in gear and backed up, almost creaming the Mercedes beside her in her rush to get out and go before he could catch up with her. Life just wasn’t fair. The car died just about the time she got to the exit.
Simon crawled out of the BMW that pulled up behind her.
Anna covered her face with one hand while she worked on starting the car again.
“I told you to wait,” he growled.
“I didn’t hear you,” she muttered, blessing the hunk of junk silently as the motor turned over and caught. “You don’t need to follow me.”
He was gone again she discovered when she peered toward the window. Apparently he wasn’t taking any chances that she would peel out and leave him. As if! Mopping the tears from her cheeks with one hand, Anna gathered the money in a wad and stuffed it into her jeans pocket.
The drive back to her apartment was nightmarish. Anna was so tense every muscle in her body was aching by the time she pulled the car in and parked in front of her room at the converted motor court. Collecting herself with an effort, she climbed out of the car and threw a wave in his general direction. “Thanks!”
“Tuesday, nine o’clock.”
Anna halted, pivoting in his direction. “You didn’t want me to start tomorrow?” she asked in dismay.
His gaze flickered over her. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
“But....”
He put the window up. Anna knew when she was defeated. Turning away as he turned the car around, she trudged to the door of her room and fished the key out of her pocket. The heat inside was horrendous, but she wasn’t about to leave the door open while he was anywhere around. Closing it, she went about her usual ritual, moving the fan, moving into the bathroom to open the window.
Simon was standing at the door with his fist raised to knock when she jerked the door open to set the fan in it. They stared at each other in surprise for several moments. His gaze moved past her to the room behind her.
“Forget something?”
The question brought his gaze back to her face. “I know a shop that can take care of the tune up for you. I’ll follow you down there tomorrow morning so you can leave it to be fixed.”
Anna’s heart hit her toes. She really needed to pay the insurance first, but it didn’t look like she was going to have a choice. “Sure. See you in the morning.”
He looked like he might say something else, but finally he turned and left.
She watched until his car turned onto the highway and finally set the fan down and went to scrounge for food, trying not to think beyond her task. “It doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “He wasn’t interested and it’s just as well he wasn’t because you need a job a lot worse than you need a man. You need a man about like you need another hole in your head. You’ve got enough problems without adding to them. Of course, I don’t suppose I’d need to worry about it being anything like the last time.”
The last man she’d been involved with had moved in with her. For at least a month, he’d actually helped her with the rent and groceries. Then the job he’d been working on ran out and he’d spent his nights and most of his days drinking up what little money he had left over from his final check, eating up her groceries and beating the shit out of her if she looked at him like she didn’t like it. Then he’d cry and tell her he didn’t know what had come over him and he hadn’t really meant to give her a black eye and loosen her teeth.
There was no booting him out. She’d finally crawled out a back window and took off, which was how she’d ended up in the dump she was in now. It was better than sleeping in her car, though, which she’d had to do for nearly three months while she scraped together enough money to get another place.
Right up until she’d met Simon Weston, she’d actually felt like she was making some progress in bettering her life. She’d had some setbacks--liked David--but she’d still felt like her general direction was upward. As bad as the relationship with David had turned out, she’d met Liz Bridgewater because of the job he was doing for her, and that had been a real godsend more times than she could count, particularly since Liz had pointed her toward several other people interested in her services.
She’d managed to hold a steady job long enough to buy the monster mobile and she’d been within an inch of actually being able to buy a piece of furniture or two, second hand, before she managed to put her hands on a bill that had come out of a robbery/murder and she’d freaked and then the boss had freaked and fired her--which, unfortunately, had coincided with her moving out of the place she’d had with David.
The apartment wasn’t much, granted, but it was a step up from sleeping in her car, and a definite two up from sleeping on the street.
She was sorry now, though, that she’d actually allowed her interest in Simon to take root. He was way out of her league in every way.
He was handsome, rich and successful, and she didn’t doubt he could pretty much have his pick of pretty women equally rich and successful.
He’d said she wasn’t his type, and called her a kid.
Trying not to think about the hope she hadn’t even realized she’d been nursing, Anna counted the bills she’d stuffed in her pocket while she ate her noodles. There was three hundred dollars.
If he was paying her minimum wage, that was about two weeks pay, which meant she was looking at nearly a month before she could see anything else and she hadn’t even worked but one day yet.
Sighing fatalistically, she stuffed the money back into her jeans. Too depressed to do anything else, she took a shower as soon as the room cooled down enough to lock up and went to bed.
* * * *
The festivities had seemed almost interminable. As much as she usually enjoyed feasting and celebration, she had begun to develop a headache from all the boisterous noise of the revelers.
Part of the headache, unfortunately, was purely nerves.
It wasn’t that she had no notion of what she was facing later that unnerved her. Her mother had died in childbirth shortly after she’d produced a second girl child, and thus she had had no one to explain the marriage bed to her, but one could hardly remain ignorant of such things.
Besides, she had been nigh betrothed to Dafydd before her father had changed his mind and settled her on Westmoreland, and although she had known that it would be a serious mistake to allow him to bed her before they read their vows, she had been curious enough to allow him some liberties … enough that she had a fair notion of what the marriage bed entailed.
That was the problem, though. She knew. She might not have been quite so unnerved if she had had no notion of what to expect.
It was compounded by the fact that Westmoreland was virtually a stranger to her. He had pressed to be married at once when he and her father had come to an agreement. As flattering as she’d found that eagerness, it had not given her much time to get to know him.
She felt almost ill when her ladies gathered around her to escort her to the bedchamber she would share with her new husband. Trying her utmost to ignore the hungry look her groom sent her as she stood, she looked around for Elspeth.
Elspeth appeared beside her, slipping her arm through hers supportively. “Yer frightened?” she whispered.
“No,” she lied.
“Good! Ye should not be. I can see he’s smitten with ye, and he cannot help but see what a wee, frail lass ye are. He will be gentle with ye.”
Anne sent her sister an annoyed glance. She was a full year her sister’s senior. Elspeth’s mothering was often welcome, but she didn’t particularly care to be treated like a child at the moment. “Yer blind then. He’s a randy stallion. He’s nae likely to give much thought for my comfort. He will be poking at me with his man root before I’ve even caught my breath.”
She was almost amused at the shock she saw in her younger sister’s face. She was such a romantic! Likely her own marriage bed would be far more horrific, for she made no bones about the fact that she found the natural side of life revolting. She was willing to bet her favorite necklace that Elspeth had never actually seen a male member and that if she had she would faint at the sight of it.
The thought went a long way toward easing her tension. She’d found she rather liked the kissing and cuddling that went with coupling. She knew losing her maidenhead was not going to be pleasant, but she thought it very possible that she would like the coupling once that was over with.
The tension returned once she’d been prepared for the bedding, increasing considerably as she heard the groom’s party descending upon them. She whirled as the door was flung open and men surged into the room, pushing at the groom who looked both eager and thoroughly rattled at the same time.
Oddly enough, calm descended over her when she saw that he was far more nervous than she was. She got up from her bench and moved to the center of the room, standing docilely as her maids removed her gown and she turned slowly so that the witnesses could verify that she was free of defect or deformity.
Interest filled her when Westmoreland dropped his own robe. It was a mere formality, of course. There was no question that she would refute him, even if she had discovered that he was less than perfect.
He wasn’t. She felt warmth fill her as she studied him, and more warmth as her gaze met his and she saw the desire in his eyes.
“Do you accept this woman as she is?”
He swallowed thickly. “Yes,” he responded a little hoarsely.
“Do you accept your groom?”
“Yes,” she responded calmly, glancing toward the witnesses, her gaze locking for several moments with Dafydd’s. Pleasure and desire filled her at his expression.
It vanished as she dragged her gaze from his at last and found her sister’s face among the crowd of witnesses.
She was staring at Westmoreland with an expression of blatant, shameless yearning and Anne had to struggle against the anger that welled inside of her.
* * * *
Anna woke struggling to breathe. Her chest was tight and achy. Her heart was hammering loudly in her ears. Many minutes passed before she managed to regain control of her emotions and breathe a little easier. Still more than half asleep, she rolled over to look at her clock. It was three o’clock.
Groaning, she rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom.
Her chest still hurt when she sprawled on the bed once more, but she was out within moments. Light was spilling through her curtains when she woke again. It took several minutes to bring her gaze into focus enough to read the clock.
Eight thirty. She lay with her eyes closed for several moments, trying to figure out why that seemed significant before she remembered that Simon had said that he would be over at nine.
That galvanized her. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to actually put any strength or coordination into her limbs. She staggered to the bathroom on legs that felt like limp noodles and collapsed in the shower, letting the water beat her awake. By the time she’d dried off and combed the tangles from her dripping hair, it was already a quarter till.
Searching frantically through her clothes, she managed to find a ragged pair of panties and a stain free T-shirt. Grabbing her jeans from the day before, she struggled into them and fastened them.
Her hair, plastered to her back and hanging to the crack of her butt, soaked her panties and the back of her jeans. “Shit!”
It was probably hot enough outside already to fry an egg on the sidewalk. The jeans would dry and so would the hair. Scrubbing the tips with the towel to get as much of the moisture out of it as possible, she combed her hair again and dashed out the door.
Simon was just pulling into the parking lot when she reached her car. He pulled up behind her and put his window down.
It must be nice to have electric windows--or even working windows, Anna thought with a touch of exasperation. The inside of her windshield was fogged up because she hadn’t been able to put her window up the night before.
She felt like shit. She knew she probably looked like hell, too.
Sighing, she answered the summons, leaning down to look at him questioningly through the window.
He gave her directions to the shop. About halfway through his explanation, his gaze dropped to her boobs and stayed there. Resisting the urge to see what he was looking at, or, in fact, do anything that would alert him to the fact that she’d noticed, she repeated the directions and returned to her car while he turned his around.
When she looked down she saw that her hair had wet the entire front of her T-shirt. Wet, it was the next thing to transparent and she wasn’t wearing a bra. She’d given him an eye full.
He probably thought she’d done it on purpose.
She didn’t have anything to change into except the shirt she’d been wearing the day before. The jeans were one thing--jeans were jeans and she doubted he’d notice it was the same pair. The shirt was another matter.
Fighting her embarrassment and an accompanying case of nerves, she crawled into her car, looked around for something to wipe the windows down and finally dropped into her seat. The shirt would dry.
He hadn’t said anything and she doubted he would. She’d just pretend she hadn’t noticed him looking and he’d figure out that she hadn’t been trolling.
She hoped.
She managed to get the car into the parking lot, stopping in front of the garage doors when the car died. The mechanic yelled at her to move it as he strode past her car and went to talk to Simon.
Gritting her teeth, she tried starting the car again.
She jumped when two hands landed loudly on her door frame. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were with Mr. Weston. You want to pull it in so I can have a look at it?”
Anna glared at him. She was used to being ignored in favor of people who looked like they had money to spend, but she usually didn’t get yelled at. “I don’t think its going to start,” she said sullenly. “I may be out of gas.”
He frowned. “Just leave the keys in the ignition. I’ll move it.”
“There aren’t any keys.”
He gave her a look. She ignored it, crawling over the seat and climbing out on the other side.
“The door doesn’t open?”
“Nope,” she tossed over her shoulder as she stalked to Simon’s car, climbing in when he’d pushed the door open for her and folding her arms over her chest.
“Seat belt.”
She looked around and finally found both ends. It took several tries before she managed to fit the two pieces together.
“Rough night?”
Meaning she looked like hell? “Not really,” she growled. “I always look like this in the morning.”
“Night owl? Or you just haven’t had your coffee yet?”
Anna rubbed her temples, struggling with her temper. “The last,” she murmured, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the headrest as he put the car in gear and pulled back into traffic. The ride was so smooth she dozed off, waking with a jerk when he parked the car. Shivering from the air conditioning, she struggled groggily with the seatbelt again.
They went in the back way. Simon paused at the first door. “There’s coffee here if you want some.”
Anna moved to the door eagerly, peering inside. The room looked like a converted storage closet. It contained a counter with a coffee pot and supplies, and an under counter refrigerator.
Anna had just finished mixing a strong cup of coffee when Simon returned. “Here, try this on.”
The tiny room seemed to close in around her as Simon filled it with his presence.
Chapter Four
The heat of his skin burned her flesh everywhere that he touched her, making her heart pound in her chest and blood pulse in her skull until she was a mindless mass of chaotic sensations, drunk with the pleasure that scoured her every nerve ending.
Dimly, guilt stole over her, but she could not have found the will to stop him if she had tried.
She’d begun to beg him with little moans and cries of need by the time he parted her thighs and settled between. A sharp needle of fear went through her as she realized that pain was unavoidable, of the flesh and of the soul, but she refused to yield to it. She wanted him. She wanted this.
Pain exploded in her loins as he plowed his hardened flesh ruthlessly past the barrier of her maidenhead, but a sense of fierce gladness filled her, too, muting the pain, drying the tears on her cheeks.
She was his. Nobody could ever take that away from her, not even him.
* * * *
Anna swayed, disoriented by the images that flickered through her mind. Completely passive, she allowed Simon to tug the sleeves over her arms and adjust the shirt. Grasping her shoulders when he’d finished, he turned her to face him, frowning as he examined the effect.
Anna looked down at the shirt Simon had helped her into. It was a man’s shirt, most likely his, though it was a denim work shirt and she had difficulty imagining him wearing anything like it.
It swallowed her, the tails of the shirt hanging past her knees, the cuffs well past her fingertips.
Her nipples, hard and erect with the cold--and Simon’s nearness--who was she kidding?--were still plainly visible through her damp T-shirt and heat rose in her cheeks as Simon grasped one arm and lifted it to roll the sleeves up until her hands were visible. “What’s this for?” she asked a little unsteadily as she studied his face, certain now that he had absolutely noticed her situation and had decided to protect himself from the distraction.
His gaze met hers briefly as he finished rolling the second sleeve above her wrist. “We need to get the boxes unpacked from the show. Hopefully this will protect your clothes.”
Yeah, the old blue jeans and t-shirt needed to be protected by his nice new denim shirt.
Anna leaned a little weakly against the counter when he disappeared again. She wasn’t sure she actually needed the coffee to jump start her heart anymore. It was pounding away in her chest like the engine of her car, painfully erratic and unrhythmical, racing and then spluttering like it meant to stop.
She was thoroughly rattled. Parts of the dream she’d had the night before had descended upon her as abruptly as a thunderclap when she hadn’t even been able to remember anything about the dream that had so unsettled her when she’d woke that morning.
Right up until she’d run into Simon again, she was certain everything she was dreaming was replays of the visions from the necklace. She realized abruptly that the story that had been unfolding had been hopelessly compromised.
Because when she’d seen Simon looking down at her she realized she’d substituted the shadowy, indistinct image of Lord Westmoreland with an image of Simon.
It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what was happening. She was still having the after flashes from touching that twice damned necklace, except now, as confusing as it already was for her, she’d begun fantasizing about Simon, too, making an even bigger tangle of a problem that was already disturbing her so much that she could hardly get a decent night’s sleep.
“Shit!” she muttered, massaging her temples and wondering if she wouldn’t be better off beating the bushes for a different job. The last thing she needed was more complications in her life.
She was pretty much trapped, though, she realized with a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Simon had already paid her an advance, and the shop was working on her car.
Picking up her coffee cup, she gulped a few sips down and moved into the hallway, looking around for Simon. Hearing the bump and clatter of tools and heavy boxes, she followed the sounds to its source, a large storage room filled with boxes.
He turned as she entered the room. “These are the boxes we took. You can start unpacking them and returning the pieces to the show room. I need to go over the things I bought and check them and put a price on them.”
Nodding, Anna looked around for a place to set the cup and finally placed it on one of the crude stud and plank shelves that lined the perimeter of the room. Crouching down beside the first box, she carefully removed the packing materials and then stared at the lamp inside a little uneasily, trying to brace herself for impact before she touched it.
A pair of gloves appeared in her peripheral vision and she turned to see that Simon was holding out the work gloves. “Maybe these will help.”
Relieved, Anna flicked him an appreciative smile and took the gloves, pulling them on gratefully. Like the shirt, these obviously belonged to Simon. It was a man’s gloves anyway. The gloves swallowed her hands whole, making them even clumsier to use than if she’d had gloves that fit. Grasping the lamp firmly and carefully, she removed it from the box and straightened, frowning as it occurred to her to wonder how she was supposed to know where it should be displayed.
Since Simon seemed preoccupied with what he was uncrating, she carried the piece into the showroom and looked around until she found a grouping that looked like it was from the same period.
“What time does Cheryl usually come in?” she asked Simon when she returned to the storage room.
He didn’t glance at her. “I gave her a few days off,” he responded absently.
Surprise flickered through her, but then it occurred to her that, until he’d hired her, Simon and Cheryl were the only employees. She probably hadn’t had a long weekend in a while.
She’d been almost as nervous about unpacking the expensive pieces as she was worried about what she might read off of them, but by the time she’d emptied a half a dozen boxes, some of Anna’s tension had eased. She found that she enjoyed examining the craftsmanship of the pieces and as silly as even she thought it was, it was almost like opening presents. Each box contained a delightful surprise.
“Hungry?”
Anna glanced up absently at the question. Her stomach growled. “No.”
He shook his head, smiling faintly. “Come on upstairs. I’ll make something for both of us--unless you know how to cook, in which case you can do the honors.”
Amusement replaced her discomfort. “Do I look like somebody who knows how to cook?”
His gaze flickered over her. A slow grin curled his lips that made her belly tremble. “You can’t blame me for being hopeful.”
“I guess that’s a no,” Anna responded wryly, straightening from what she’d been doing and then stretching her cramped muscles. Removing the gloves, she dropped them to the floor beside the box she was working on and scrubbed her damp palms on the shirt.
He chuckled. “That was one of those ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ questions if I ever heard one. I thought I’d negotiated that land mine as well as could be expected,” he said, holding his hand out for her.
She preceded him out of the room and headed toward the stairs she’d noticed when she was moving back and forth between the showroom and the storage room. The door at the top was locked and she moved to one side as he unlocked it and pushed the door open, reaching in to flick the light switch as she stepped inside.
Soft yellow light filled the area, illuminating a spacious apartment that looked as if it took up most of the second floor. The living area was enormous. A formal dining area was set apart from the main living area by a raised platform and columns. The kitchen was separated off by a long counter. The place looked like something out of a decorator’s magazine, or one of the homes of the rich and famous. She doubted there was a single thing in the apartment that had cost under a hundred bucks--including the salt and pepper shakers.
“The bathroom is down that hall,” Simon said, pointing toward it as he headed for the kitchen.
Feeling as uncomfortable and out of place in the magazine perfect apartment as she did when she visited Liz Bridgewater, Anna crossed the living area and looked around. The first door she tried opened into a bedroom that looked like it was almost as big as the living area.
“It’s the second door--or you can go through the bedroom and use the master bath,” Simon called.
Closing the door, Anna moved down the hall to the bath at the end, unwilling to invade the privacy of his bedroom.
The smell of cooking food struck her as she left the bathroom and headed back.
“An omelet okay?” he asked as she rounded the corner.
She nodded. She’d never had one but it smelled delicious. “What should I do?”
“Gather up the fighting utensils, plates, glasses--something to wash it down with.”
Moving around the counter, she began opening and closing cabinets in search of the dishes. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the dishes looked as expensive as the rest of his household, but she was. She held them out a little doubtfully, wondering if he had a set of ‘good’ dishes and everyday like she’d heard some people did. Grabbing them without even glancing at her, he deposited a huge omelet on one and dropped butter in the pan again before pouring the remains of his mixture in.
The refrigerator looked like it was stocked with everything. “What do you want to drink?”
“Milk.”
She glanced at him in surprise but poured a glass of milk for him, choosing juice for herself. He grabbed flat wear and napkins while she was still trying to decide where to set the glasses.
A lower counter area formed a small, informal eating area at one end. Simon had set the plates on either side. Waiting until she saw where he preferred to sit, Anna took the other chair and hesitated to see if he had any sort of pre-eating ritual. She felt a little more comfortable when she saw he didn’t. Not that she was completely at ease. There was something strangely intimate about sharing food with another person, particularly in a setting like this, where no one else was around. She’d never really gotten comfortable with the domesticity of sharing meals with David--or in fact anyone.
She’d landed in the homes of more than a half a dozen different foster parents and sat with an assortment of families, but it had always seemed to her that the very moment she began to relax and begin to feel like she belonged she was whisked away to start over with an entirely different family.
“No bad vibes?”
It took her a moment to change gears and figure out what he was asking. She shook her head. “I have to actually touch anything to read it. The gloves are great. Thanks!” Belatedly, she remembered her manners. “The food is great, too.”
“If you’re hungry enough anything tastes good,” he said dryly.
She glanced at him. She seriously doubted that he’d ever known real hunger, but he was a big man and he obviously had an appetite to match his size. The omelets were huge. “This would be good even if I wasn’t starving.”
She wasn’t saying it only to be polite. The food was good. He must have done a lot of cooking for himself to become so proficient in the kitchen, she decided. He’d not only managed not to burn anything, he’d looked like a chef when he was chopping up the ingredients, moving the knife over the vegetables he’d cut up like lightening and producing perfectly even pieces.
He didn’t wear a ring and he’d never once mentioned a wife, but then that really didn’t mean that much. A lot of men didn’t wear their wedding bands and they rarely mentioned a wife and kiddies when there was another female around--even when they had no interest in the female, preferring, she supposed, not to take any chances on scaring off a possible lay.
She couldn’t help but wonder about it, but he’d already made it clear that he didn’t welcome questions about himself. “This apartment is fantastic. Did you do it yourself?” She asked, deciding that sounded a little less intrusive.
He looked amused, as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking when she asked. “Not hardly. Do I look like a decorator to you?”
Anna smiled back at him. “That’s not one of those damned if you do, damned if you don’t questions, is it?”
“I’d be insulted if you said I did,” he said wryly. “Cheryl did it. My contributions were the money, and directions to make it open and roomy with a lot of light, and warm colors.”
“So--you’ve either got good decorating instincts, in spite of what you said, or you just don’t like feeling cramped up,” Anna said lightly, dismissing the pang she’d felt when he said Cheryl had decorated it and refusing to examine why she’d felt the pang or exactly what it might mean that Cheryl had had free reign in decorating the place.
He frowned at his plate. “There is not, nor ever was, anything between me and Cheryl. Experience has taught me it’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure.”
Anna blushed, wondering if her expression had been that transparent or if he was just taking a wild guess. Probably not the last, she decided, otherwise why would he make the remark about not mixing business with pleasure?
If the comment had been meant as a warning, then he had noticed she was interested in him beyond work, which was really embarrassing.
He needn’t have worried. She might be young, but she knew the score. Females that got mixed up with the boss were usually job hunting before very long, occasionally because the female found out it was really hard to breakup and still work with the guy they’d broke up with, but mostly because the boss had lost interest and found it annoying to have to deal with an ex in his workspace.
“I was married, but that was a very long time ago.”
Anna got up abruptly and collected the dishes. “I’ll take care of clean up.”
Simon had disappeared by the time she’d finished. She didn’t know whether he’d gone down or vanished into one of the rooms at the back of the apartment, but she left the dishes drying in the drainer, dried her hands and headed back to work.
By the time Simon called it a day, Anna’s tail was dragging, mostly because she’d been tired when she started the day.
The bill for the work on her car stunned her, not because it was so high, but because it seemed surprisingly low. She’d never had any work done on it to speak of because she couldn’t afford to have anything fixed that broke, but the amount still seemed--wrong. Anna studied the receipt uneasily. “You had a tune up special?”
The mechanic’s gaze flickered to Simon. “Right.”
Anna glanced toward Simon, as well, discovering that he was striding toward his car.
Dismissing the uncomfortable suspicion that had flashed through her, she paid the man and tucked her receipt into her jeans pocket.
Her mood lightened as she started the car. She had enough left over to pay the insurance! She didn’t know whether to kiss Simon for taking her to a place that was running a tune up special or kiss the mechanic.
Throwing Simon a wave and a smile of thanks, she headed for the insurance company to stave off disaster for another month. She didn’t have much money left after the insurance company got through with her, and she needed everything, but she decided to invest in a better fitting pair of gloves and a work apron so she wouldn’t have to use Simon’s things. Before she was tempted to do something frivolous with the remaining money, she bought gas and then stopped by the grocery store and emptied her pockets.
Despite the miserable heat, she felt downright cheerful as she shouldered her way into her apartment with two bags of groceries.
Munching on a tuna sandwich, she studied the rows of canned food she’d bought, realizing with a touch of surprise that the giddiness that kept trying to escape her was happiness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like that, but she had food, her car was running better than it ever had in all the time she’d had it, the rent was paid and so was her insurance. The load lifted from her shoulders was enough to make her feel downright buoyant.
If everything worked out and she didn’t do anything to get fired, she decided she would buy a hot plate in a few weeks and try her hand at real cooking--maybe. Maybe she could even find a second hand refrigerator and have something to store cold food, ice, something to chill beverages.
When she’d finished the sandwich, she got up and searched the room for enough change to wash a load of clothes. Gathering up her laundry, she examined each article carefully and separated best from worst, wishing she’d kept enough money to visit one of the used clothing stores.
Shaking her head at the thought, she bundled up her best. She’d known she would be tempted to spend the money on something else if she didn’t use it. What she had would do for now and when she got paid she could pick up a few things. Beyond looking neat and clean she didn’t need to be worrying about her appearance. Simon might think she was trying to flirt with him if she did start worrying about it.
She was watching the washer fill, waiting for the detergent to dissolve before she threw her clothes in when a hand settled on her ass. Letting out a yelp, Anna whirled, coming face to face with her landlord.
“Got yourself a new boyfriend?”
Revolted, Anna put some distance between them. “He’s my boss.”
His chuckle was suggestive. “Right.”
Anna glared at him, but fear had already begun to roil in her stomach. He’d looked at her before in a way she didn’t like, but he’d never had the nerve to actually touch her. He was old and grossly overweight, but he had the only exit blocked. He wouldn’t have to move fast to prevent her from escaping. “Did you want something in particular?”
“Some of what he’s having would do.”
The mere thought of it made her feel like throwing up. “Not in this lifetime, asshole. I paid my rent and I’d live in the street before I’d even consider letting you touch me.”
He reddened. His beady eyes narrowed even more. “I could cut a little off of it.”
“You couldn’t cut enough off of it,” she snapped angrily, fighting the wobble that had developed in her chin. “I’ve got my receipt showing I’m paid up.”
“You are feeling high and mighty now. You think you’re going to hire a lawyer and file harassment charges?”
“Is there a problem here?”
Both Anna and her landlord jumped at the sudden intrusion of a man’s voice.
Anna stared at the stranger, uncertain of whether he represented a new threat or safety. Except for the fact that he was tall and broad shouldered, she couldn’t tell much about him. The single dim bulb in the laundry shed barely competed with the bright light from outside even though it was late in the afternoon.
His voice had sounded vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it with the noise the washing machine was making.
The landlord sent her a threatening glance. “I was just making sure Ms. Lindstrom didn’t put too much soap in the machine,” he said evenly. When he saw Anna wasn’t going to dispute the lie, he pushed past the other man and left.
Her shoulders slumped.
“You’re looking good.”
A wave of nausea washed over Anna. The light from outside had dazzled her. As he stepped inside and her eyes focused recognition dawned. “David.”
He smiled. “I was beginning to think you didn’t recognize me.”
The washer kicked into its agitation cycle, diverting Anna’s attention. She grabbed up her clothes and started to feed them into the machine. “The sunlight blinded me,” she muttered.
He sidled up behind her, rubbing himself against her backside. “You still mad at me?” He murmured as he dipped his head close to her ear.
Anna slammed the lid of the washer down and twisted out of his loose hold. Afraid would have been a better description of how she’d felt when she left. She was still afraid. “That was a long time ago,” she said uneasily, moving toward the door of the shed.
Relieved when he didn’t try to prevent her from leaving, Anna strode quickly toward her apartment, trying to keep from looking like she was running, wondering if someone would steal her clothes before she could get back for them.
He caught up to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. “Whoa! Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“I--uh--I remembered I’d left something cooking,” she lied. “I need to go,” she added, trying to wrest her arm from him.
“You are still mad,” he said, anger drawing his dark brows together above the bridge of his nose. “Hey, I’m sober now. I’m on the wagon.”
Right, and the moon had started rising in the west. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Anna said shakily. “Let go of my arm, David.”
He released her. “You didn’t used to hold a grudge.”
That was before the two black eyes and the three loosened molars. He’d gotten two shots at using her as a punching bag. She wasn’t about to give him another chance. The first one had been enough to convince her she didn’t want to know him. If she hadn’t been so stupid as to think she could make him leave he wouldn’t have gotten the second shot at her.
Scurrying to her apartment, she unlocked the door with shaking hands and dashed inside, slamming the door behind her. He caught the edge of the door with the ball of his hand before she could close it. “I really have changed. Think about it. I’ve got the apartment on the end there if you decide you want to work this out.”
The moment he let go of the door, she slammed it closed and locked the security bolts and then wilted weakly to the floor. Panic had her in its grip and her mind was chaotic. If she hadn’t been too weak to move, she would have jumped up that very moment and took off, leaving everything she had behind.
As she was mentally sorting her belongings, trying to decide which she really needed and which she could leave, other thoughts began to filter into her mind--her car, her best work clothes still in the washer, the rent she’d already paid, and the fact that she didn’t have a cent in her pockets.
Anger began to supplant her blind fear. She was comfortable. She’d started over. She had a chance to make her life better. She couldn’t just let him chase her off.
She got up after a little while and moved to the window to peer out. There was no sign of him.
Moving away from the window, she paced the floor, trying to calculate how long it would take the washing machine to finish its cycles. She couldn’t see the laundry shed from her room.
What if he was waiting there for her?
“You’re scaring yourself,” she muttered in answer to the question. “Get a grip, Bethany Anastasia! He’s sober--right now anyway. He isn’t stupid enough to add another assault to his record.”
At least she didn’t think he was.
She sat down on the edge of the bed after a few moments, realizing that she wasn’t calming herself. She was working her fears up to fever pitch and completely unable to think rationally. It took a concerted effort on her part, but slowly she began to come to grips with her fear.
It was just the shock of seeing him again when she had never expected to, she finally decided. Most likely it had only been magnified by the unpleasant encounter with her landlord just before that. She was blowing everything all out of proportion. All she needed to do was to let him know she just wasn’t interested in taking up where they left off and he’d take the hint and leave her alone.
She hoped.
She could save her money and look around for a different place. If she was wrong and he wouldn’t take the hint and leave her alone then she could move.
Liz Bridgewater had said she would probably want another appointment in a couple of weeks. There’d be money in that and then if she could see some of the others for readings she might have enough to get another place--if she had to.
It was going to be a set back if she had to move, but not nearly as bad as just running like a rabbit when she was flat broke and leaving things she might need.
Getting up, she moved to the window and looked around and finally opened the door. Seeing no sign of either David or her landlord, she scurried to the laundry shed for her clothes. The machine was spinning. She chewed her nails while she waited for it to finish and grabbed her clothes the minute the machine stopped, hurrying back to her apartment. She hadn’t had enough money for the dryer anyway.
When she’d draped her laundry around the room to dry, she looked for the tattered paperback she’d been reading and curled up in bed with it, trying to focus her mind on the page and dismiss the thoughts still whirling in her head.
* * * *
Elspeth sighed with a sense of satisfaction and pleasure as she carefully placed her last stitch and tied the knot. Replacing her needle with care in her sewing basket, she rose from her bench and carried the gown she’d just finished to stand before the looking glass, holding it up and peering at her blurry image to judge the effect.
Lord Bainbridge was bound to think it flattering, she decided. The color went well with her flesh tones and hair.
A nervous twinge knotted her stomach at the thought of her impending marriage, but she dismissed it. Anne was happily wed and she made no secret of the fact that she thoroughly enjoyed the marriage bed. Surely, she would quickly grow accustomed, as well, and perhaps by this time next year she would have a babe to cuddle in her arms.
Smiling at the thought, she carefully arranged her gown on top of her bed and went off to find Anne, who’d come to visit when she had learned that Elspeth was to be wed.
Puzzled when she didn’t find her sister in the solar with the maids, she left the room again, wondering if Anne had gone for a stroll in the garden.
It seemed unlikely. Anne wasn’t fond of the effect the sun had on her skin.
She paused at Anne’s bedchamber door, realizing it was equally unlikely that Anne would’ve gone to her room to change or to nap at that hour of the day. A faint giggle disputed that assumption, however. Smiling slightly in response to the sound, Elspeth tapped on the panel and pushed it open to see what her sister was doing that she found so amusing.
Shock rooted her to the floor at the sight that met her gaze. Two absolutely nude bodies lay entwined on top of Anne’s bed. Struck blind, deaf and dumb by her astonishment, she could neither move nor speak for many moments, and she certainly could not identify the possessors of the flesh. At just about the same moment the couple on the bed realized they had an audience, horror washed over Elspeth with the realization that Lord Westmoreland must have arrived to join his wife. “I beg yer pardon!” she gasped.
She’d scarcely gotten the apology out when the man lifted his head from Anne’s breast and turned to look at her.
She stared blankly at Lord Bainbridge as another wave of shock rolled over her, this one bringing with it a nearly overwhelming urge to empty the contents of her stomach. Clapping a hand to her mouth, she bolted from the room, barely making it to her own chamber and grabbing the chamber pot before she was sick.
She was still leaning over it, holding her head in her hands when Anne came into the room. “Go away,” she said without looking up.
“Do ye mean to tell Lord Westmoreland?”
Elspeth looked up at her sister in disbelief, feeling suddenly as if she was looking at a complete stranger. No, ‘I’m sorry ye caught me fucking yer groom’? No, ‘I’m sorry I did it’? Just, ‘ye won’t tell, will ye’? “How could ye betray me like that? How could ye betray him when even I can see he worships ye?”
Guilt flickered in her eyes briefly, but it was very short lived. “My marriage is not yer concern! If ye tell him, I’ll call ye a liar and who do ye think he’d believe?”
“Get out!” Elspeth cried, surging to her feet, struggling against the hysteria she felt rising inside of her. “Get out!”
Anne looked taken aback, but she stood her ground. “I’m sorry ye had to see that,” she said finally, tears welling in her eyes. “I couldn’t help it.”
“He forced himself upon ye in yer room?”
“I love him!” she cried. “I dinna realize it when I agreed to marry Westmoreland! Have pity, Elspeth. Ye’ve no notion how miserable I am to be wed to a man I canna love and to see the man I love with ye!”
Elspeth stared at her sister in disbelief for several moments and finally burst into tears. “I dinna know? Do ye think I feel nothing?”
“Ye canna hurt as I do else ye could nae hide it!”
Elspeth thought for several moments that she would not be able to contain her outrage. Apparently Anne saw how near she was to completely losing control, for she departed abruptly, slamming the door behind her.
Elspeth wasn’t certain how long she sat in the middle of her room, staring at the wedding gown she had only just completed, but she rose after a while and took the gown, placed in on the hearth and set fire to it.
Her father flew into a rage when she announced that she would not marry Lord Bainbridge. As tempted as she was to tell him why when he demanded a reason for her sudden refusal, she couldn’t bring herself to expose her sister when there was no telling what her husband might do to her if he discovered her betrayal. Beyond that, or maybe even more importantly, she couldn’t bear the thought of causing Westmoreland pain to ease her own.
Unfortunately, neither could she bring herself to marry the man who’d betrayed her on the eve of their wedding only to buy peace. For once, she refused to back down, even when her father finally lost control of his temper and beat her until she lost consciousness.
By the time she was able to leave her bed again, Lord Bainbridge had left. Her father, who’d grown so furious with her he’d had a seizure, was dead, and Westmoreland had come to take his sister-in-law into his household and under his protection.
* * * *
Anna woke clutching her chest, gasping for breath as if she was drowning. Slowly, the anxiety eased and the mists of sleep beckoned. She lay with her eyes closed for some time, wondering if she should get up or if she could go back to sleep. Finally, she rolled onto her side and looked for the clock.
Disoriented when she didn’t see it, she realized after a few moments that she was turned the wrong way and rolled to her other side.
It was eight thirty.
“Damn it!” Anna muttered.
Struggling from the bed like a drunk, she staggered into the bathroom, running into everything between the bed and the bathroom door like the ball in a pinball machine, staggering back and changing directions. The water roused her somewhat, but she was still groggy and uncoordinated as she wandered around the room feeling her clothes until she found some that were relatively dry. The jeans, because the fabric was heavier, were all too wet to consider.
Huffing with disgust, she pulled on the pair she’d been wearing for the past two days. The moment she fastened them, she realized the panties she’d grabbed were still damp, too. She just hadn’t noticed because of the chill from the air conditioning. The T-shirt was still more wet than dry, too. Even worse, it was so wrinkled it looked like she’d slept in it.
Raking the tangles from her hair, she left it loose to dry and looked around for the gloves and apron she’d bought the day before and then remembered she’d left them in the car.
The car wasn’t where she’d left it. She stared at the empty space blankly for many moments before it occurred to her that maybe she’d forgotten where she parked it.
After scanning the parking lot, however, she saw that it wasn’t in the lot at all.
At about the same moment it dawned on her that someone had actually stolen her hunk of junk, David’s face swam into her mind’s eye. David knew the ignition lock was busted and he wouldn’t need a key to start the car. “Bastard! That low down, dirty sonofabitch!”
Tamping the urge to cry from pure rage, Anna looked around the lot again, trying to think what to do. The car didn’t magically appear and she had about fifteen minutes to get to work.
Grinding her teeth, she left the parking lot and began jogging toward the shop. By the time she’d covered a block, she had a stitch in her side that felt like she’d ruptured something. Holding her side, she slowed to a walk, trying to catch her breath.
She didn’t have a watch. She figured it must have taken her about five minutes to cover the distance she already had and she had five or six blocks to go. “I should’ve called the cops,” she muttered. But it was only her second day on the job. She hadn’t thought about calling them and even if she had she couldn’t afford to kick her heels while she waited for them to come. They would’ve had her tied up half the day filing reports.
She was going to get fired!
Ignoring the pain in her side, she managed to jog nearly halfway down the next block before she had to stop and catch her breath.
It was nearly ten o’clock by the time she made it to the shop.
One look at Simon’s face was enough to assure her that he was thoroughly pissed.
She gaped at him, deciding the lie she’d come up with to cover her tardiness probably wasn’t going to appease him.
“Where’s your car?”
Anna reddened guiltily. Not only did she not want to tell him the whole sordid mess that was her life story, but she knew he either wouldn’t believe it or he wouldn’t care if he did. Bottom line as far as the boss was concerned was that employees show up on time, not with excuses for why they hadn’t. “I’m sorry,” she said lamely. “It won’t happen again.”
His lips tightened, his gaze flickering over her assessingly. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“A--uh--a friend borrowed it and didn’t bring it back when he said he would,” she lied, studying her feet.
When he said nothing, she finally nerved herself to peer at him again. If possible, he looked angrier than before. “Your friend’s got no reason to care about your job. I thought you did.”
“I do! I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear it!”
He was silent so long Anna had to fight the urge to burst into tears. Finally, he merely turned away. “You need to finish unpacking those boxes today. And try for a little more neatness. I don’t mind the jeans and T-shirts since you’re working in the back, but you look like you just crawled out of bed,” he growled as he disappeared down the hall toward the showroom.
Anna stared at his back in dismay as he stalked away. Finally, dragging in a shuddering breath, she headed for the restroom to see if she could do anything with her appearance.
Her hair looked like a rat’s nest. She hadn’t realized that the running, and the gusts of wind that had slapped at her every time a car zipped past her had whipped it into a frenzy.
She didn’t have a comb with her. Smoothing it the best she could with her fingers, she pulled it back and put a rubber band around it to hold it at the base of her skull. The T-shirt looked worse, if possible, than she’d thought when she pulled it on while her eyes were still half closed with sleep. She tried smoothing it with her hands and finally tucked it into the waist of her jeans.
It didn’t look much better, but she was uneasy about wasting so much time in the bathroom when she’d already come in late. Splashing water on her face to cool it from the exertion and the heat outside, she dried her face and hands and went into the store room.
The shirt and gloves she’d used the day before were where she’d left them.
Simon hadn’t invited her to help herself to the coffee. She did anyway, but she waited until she was sure he wouldn’t catch her.
He also didn’t invite her upstairs to eat with him at lunch.
She waited until she heard him go up and grabbed another cup of coffee to keep the hunger pains at bay. By mid-afternoon she was flying high on caffeine and so jittery with nerves she felt sick to her stomach.
She discovered, though, that she hadn’t even emptied half the boxes she was supposed to take care of before quitting time. The sense of urgency to get done and not exacerbate the problem she already had with her boss made her careless. She forgot to put the gloves back on when she returned from a bathroom break. Reaching into the box she’d already opened, she grabbed the box inside with her bare hand and fell into a well of blackness.
When she opened her eyes a dark, blurry shape swam into view and absolute terror went through her. Letting out a sound that was half gasp, half scream, she scrambled backwards, slamming into a pile of the empty boxes she’d stacked to one side so that they rained down around her.
The impact brought her back to the real world, though, and she saw with dismay that it had been Simon leaning over her.
She’d fainted. Oh god! Not now!
“Sorry! I didn’t realize it was you.”
Some of his stunned surprise and anger dissipated. “Are you all right?”
Anna pushed herself upright, rubbing her throbbing head. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
He didn’t look like he believed her.
“I just got a little dizzy and decided to lie down a minute,” she lied.
His lips thinned. “I heard you hit the floor from my office.”
She reddened. “I must have dropped the box I was holding,” she said a little desperately. That sounded bad, she knew, but not as bad as fainting. Employers didn’t want anything to do with fainters. It jacked their insurance up. “I’ll check it and make sure I didn’t break anything.”
She could tell from his expression that he wasn’t buying it. “I think you need to call it a day.”
Dismay filled her. “But--I’m not done. I can finish before I go. I’m ok.”
“It can wait until Monday. Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”
It made her feel a little better that he’d said she could finish on Monday since she didn’t think he would’ve said that if he was going to fire her. The moment he suggested taking her home, however, her stomach knotted and visions of David swam in her head.
“Oh, no! I can walk. I wouldn’t want to put you out--especially when I didn’t get done.” Her legs still felt rubbery when she had struggled to her feet. She had to lock her knees, but even that didn’t prevent her from listing to one side. He caught her arm just above the elbow, steadying her.
“You haven’t eaten today, have you?”
“I did. I brought my lunch. I just didn’t stop to eat. I ate while I was working.”
“Wait here while I lock up,” he said, his voice grim and brooking no argument.
When he’d left, Anna made her way to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. She saw when she looked up at her reflection why he hadn’t believed a single lie. She was still white as a sheet. She remembered the box as she left the bathroom. Anxiety immediately filled her, but she discovered to her relief that she’d only dropped it back in the box when she’d passed out. It looked undamaged.
“Now--what really happened?” Simon asked as he pulled his car into traffic.
Still more than a little woozy, Anna had closed her eyes the moment she’d settled in the car. “I got careless,” she said finally, realizing it was pointless to doggedly pursue the lies when he obviously hadn’t believed a word of it.
“Because you were in a rush to finish.” It wasn’t a question and she didn’t bother trying to refute it. “What did you see?”
“I don’t remember.” It wasn’t really a lie. She hadn’t ‘seen’ anything. A wall of emotion had hit her and knocked her for a loop and she couldn’t even clearly remember what she’d felt.
“So--you didn’t just get dizzy and lie down. Does the truth ever cross your lips?”
Anna flicked a dismayed glance at him. She felt color climb into her cheeks. “I touched it and I got dizzy and I lay down.” She pinched her lower lip between her thumb and forefinger, tugging on it nervously. “Are you going to fire me?”
“No. Are you going to lie to me again?”
“No,” she said, propping her arm on the door and staring out of the window. She doubted very much that he would believe the truth, though. Nobody ever did, mostly because she rarely dealt with people that were living under the same circumstances.
Consternation filled her when she realized they were nearing her apartment. “You can just let me out at the corner here,” she said hurriedly.
He ignored the suggestion, turning into the parking lot of the converted motor court.
Anna’s heart sank when she saw David. He’d just rounded the end of her car. He glanced up when Simon pulled into the lot and settled his ass on the trunk, folding his arms over his chest.
Chapter Five
A nearly overwhelming sense of desperation settled over Anna like an iceberg. Please, God! Just kill me now! Don’t make me deal with this. She sent an uneasy glance at Simon as he stopped the car, grabbing blindly for the door handle. The door was locked. She’d forgotten it locked automatically when the car started. She turned a nail backwards trying to get the door open and winced at the pain.
“Thanks so much for the ride, Mr. Weston,” she said, breathless with agitation, so blinded with panic she couldn’t even think straight.
His assessing gaze was fixed on David. Not by the flicker of an eyelash did he indicate he’d heard a word she’d said.
Searching frantically for the auto lock button, Anna finally found it and rolled out of the car. “Thanks again!”
“That your new boyfriend, baby?” David drawled menacingly, his voice overlaying hers.
Slamming the door, Anna backed away from Simon’s car, waving hopefully.
When she turned, she discovered that she was almost level with David. The smell of beer hit at almost the same moment and her belly clenched. “He’s my boss!” she hissed. “Don’t start anything, David. I mean it!”
His hand closed around her arm bruisingly. “Don’t walk away from me, bitch! I asked you a god damned question. Is that stuffed shirt the guy you blew me off for?”
Anna glanced around fearfully. To her horror, she saw that Simon was getting out of the car. She couldn’t think beyond getting the two men separated. “It’s alright, Mr. Weston. This--this is just a friend of mine. The one that borrowed my car.”
She didn’t even see the blow coming. Her gaze was fixed on Simon as he started purposefully around the car, his face a mask of rage. Shock closed over her the minute David’s hand impacted with her face, sending her flying backwards as if a great, invisible hand had snatched her into the air. She slammed into a parked car and then the ground.
She was too stunned to move for many moments, blinded by pain and encroaching darkness. Her palms and knees burned from the impact with the pavement. One whole side of her face felt as if it was twice the size of the other, numbed and throbbing at the same time. Completely disoriented, she looked around at the pavement, trying to figure out where she was. Finally, she rolled onto her side and stared at her stinging palms.
Tiny rocks and glass were embedded in the skin. As she stared at her hands blankly, pin points of blood rose to the surface and grew until it was streaming over her hands and dripping onto the ground.
Something heavy slammed into the car she was leaning against so hard that the car rocked. It penetrated her haze and Anna looked around sharply. She saw then that David was bent backwards over the trunk of the car. Simon’s hands were around his throat, his face unrecognizable.
Fear brought her to her feet. David would pulverize Simon! As big as Simon was, she knew he couldn’t have any notion of how to fight--certainly not down and dirty street fighting. “Stop! Somebody’ll call the cops!” she gasped, rushing toward the two men and trying to pull Simon’s arm loose.
His arm felt like a length of steel. Every muscle was standing out, as hard as stone. She couldn’t budge it.
David’s hands were wrapped around Simon’s throat, as well.
Neither man paid her the least bit of attention.
David finally released his grip on Simon’s throat and slammed his fist into the side of his head. Simon blinked, but his grip didn’t loosen. Anna made a grab for David’s fist as he swung it at Simon’s face again. She caught his arm, but she didn’t manage to block the blow. The motion jerked her off balance.
She dug a trench down David’s arm with her nails as she struggled to catch herself.
He let out a hoarse growl and bucked, slinging her loose and pushing Simon off balance. Both men rolled off of the car and hit the pavement.
Anna struggled to her feet again and rushed over to where they were thrashing about on the pavement, hammering at each other with their fists. She caught a glimpse of flashing blue lights as she danced around them, trying to find an opening to separate the two men. Before she could throw herself into the fray, she was caught from behind, swung around, and slammed into the trunk of the car David and Simon had been fighting on only a few moments before. A hand settled on her head, mashing her face into the hot metal. “Don’t move!”
She couldn’t have moved if she’d tried. Her arms were wrenched behind her back and metal bit into her wrists. The hand that clamped onto her shoulder and hauled her upright almost separated her shoulder joint. Holding her cuffed arm, the cop shoved her toward a police car and into the backseat.
She landed sideways and lay panting, trying to catch her breath. The seat stank, making it almost impossible to do so. Gathering herself, she struggled and finally managed to straighten up where she could see what was going on. Both Simon and David had been handcuffed by that time. The urge to cry didn’t hit her until she saw two cops shoving Simon into the backseat of a patrol car.
“I’m going to get fired now for sure,” she muttered, trying to mop the tears trailing down her cheeks with her shoulders. The pain that went through her when she touched the side of her face where David had hit her effectively dried her tears. With her hands bound behind her, there was no way to get comfortable, or even to lean her head against anything. She closed her eyes, dropping her chin against her chest.
The door opened beside her. “You want to tell me what was going on here?” the cop demanded.
Anna opened her eyes and looked at him. He was breathing heavily, still caught up in the adrenaline rush from breaking up the fight. “I--uh--I don’t really know.”
The cop caught her chin, twisting her head so he could look at her face. “Which one of them did this?”
“David.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Anna said, anger surfacing.
The cop squatted down in the door opening. “Ex boyfriend?”
She didn’t even want to admit that much but she knew either Simon or David or both would make a liar out of her. “Yes.”
“So--your ex and your new boyfriend got into a squabble over you. What got it started?”
Anna’s chin wobbled. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then tell me what it was like. I don’t read minds, lady.”
“Simon--Mr. Weston is my boss. He gave me a ride home because David took my car.”
“I thought you said David wasn’t your boyfriend anymore,” he said suspiciously. “So, your boyfriend took exception to you going off with this other guy--You turning tricks? Is that what this was all about? Your boyfriend got pissed off because you rolled up here with a john?”
A sense of inevitability and hopelessness descended over Anna. He wasn’t going to believe a word she said. He’d already tried and convicted her. It had been years since she’d had a run in with a cop, but she knew from hard experience that nothing she said would be believed and they would twist anything out of her mouth against her. “You’ve got it all figured out,” she said sullenly, turning her head away and refusing to say anything else.
“I’m booking you for soliciting and for creating a public disturbance.”
Simon was going to be really thrilled when they hit him with charges for soliciting a prostitute.
They arrived at the police station at roughly the same time. Anna refused to look at anything but her feet as the cop hauled her inside, although she sensed that Simon was staring at her.
She was handed off to a female officer once they were inside and taken to a holding cell. There were already three women inside, a black girl that looked like she should’ve been in with the juveniles and two prostitutes, one black and one Hispanic.
“What’d they get you for, baby girl?”
Rubbing her wrists, Anna looked around for a place to sit and finally settled beside the young girl. “Breathing,” she muttered, holding one hand to her throbbing cheek.
The girl stared at her blankly a moment and then started laughing. “That’s a good one.”
Sighing, Anna scooted back until she could lean against the wall. “How long have ya’ll been in here?”
“You got a long wait, baby girl. They don’t get in no hurry. Me and Gloria’s been in here since before day this morning. They brung the kid in hours ago. Why they didn’t take you to the hospital? You look like shit. Your boyfriend been slapping you around?”
“Ex boyfriend,” Anna said tiredly.
“Guess he don’t take rejection well.”
Anna almost managed to smile at that. “I thought I’d given him the slip months ago. He found me.”
“Hmmph. You sound like me, baby girl. Bad news just follows me where ever I go. And a bad man’s like dog shit. Just can’t scrape it off your shoe.”
Anna chuckled and then winced at the pain. “I’m Anna.”
“Tasha. Seriously, what you in for?”
“It’s a long, boring story.”
Tasha shrugged. “Where I’m gonna go? Might as well talk. There ain’t nuthin else to do around here.”
She didn’t much feel like talking but Tasha was right. They didn’t have anything else to do but wait. The cops always took their sweet time with processing, making certain that their prey had plenty of time to regret falling afoul of them.
She gave Tasha the short version.
“So why did they haul you in?”
“They’re charging me with soliciting.”
The black woman looked her up and down. “No offense, but is that man blind? You couldn’t pick up anybody if you tried in that get up. I ain’t sayin’ you couldn’t if you was fixed up. You got good bones. A little makeup and the right clothes and you probably could, but you look like a Jesus freak or something without no make up. You shore don’t look like no workin’ girl.”
Anna shrugged. “Guess he needed to make a bust. What are you in for?”
Tasha’s good humor vanished. “Entrapment. Damn cop came on to me. When I told him how much it’d cost him, he clapped the cuffs on me.”
Anna sighed. “I don’t care what anybody says. It’s still a man’s world.”
“Ain’t that the truth!”
They fell silent after that and since neither of the other two women seemed interested in talking, Anna drew her knees up and propped her forehead on them. She was half dozing when the rattle of a key in the lock roused her.
“Anna Linstrom?”
Anna looked up in surprise at the female guard.
“Come on. You’re being released.”
Dumbfounded, Anna scooted off the bunk and got to her feet.
“Hey! What about the rest of us? We been waitin’ for hours.”
“And you’ll keep on waiting,” the guard snapped, grabbing Anna by one arm and dragging her from the cell.
A cab was sitting in front of the station when Anna stepped outside. The rear door opened and Simon got out. “Come on.”
After staring at him uneasily for a moment, Anna answered the summons. He got in behind her, giving the driver her address. He seemed disinclined to talk. Since Anna didn’t know what to say, she held her tongue. Sorry seemed really inadequate all things considered.
“That was a delightful experience,” Simon muttered when they got out at the motor court and the cab drove off.
Anna sent him an apologetic glance. Her chin wobbled threateningly, though, and she dismissed the temptation to speak for fear she’d burst into tears. His expression hardened as he stared at her. “Get in the car. I want a doctor to look at you.”
Anna sniffed. She’d didn’t have money, or insurance, or Medicaid. “I’m okay.”
He walked her to the passenger door of his car, ignoring the weak protest. “I’m glad you seem to think so, but I’ll feel better if a doctor looks at you.”
She didn’t have the energy to fight him or even to argue. She allowed him to push her into the seat and buckle the seat belt, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the headrest. “There’s a free clinic at the health department if you’ll take me there,” she murmured without opening her eyes when he got in and started the car.
She drifted off sometime during the drive, waking with a start when the car stopped. Confused, she simply stared at the hospital for several moments, wondering if he’d parked on a side of the clinic that she was unfamiliar with.
He helped her out of the car.
“Is this the clinic?”
His response was a nonverbal grunt.
“Because it doesn’t look like the clinic.”
She realized before they’d even gotten in the door that he’d ignored her request to take her to the clinic. She was still protesting when they took her back to an examination room, handed her a gown and told her to get undressed. Feeling strangely disoriented, she simply did as she was told, drifting in and out as she lay on the table and they poked and prodded her.
After what seemed like hours, they decided she was merely badly bruised. When they’d cleaned the debris out of her palms, they smeared salve on the abrasions and wrapped her hands. A nurse came in and stabbed her with a needle and they poured her into the front seat of Simon’s car again.
The next time she roused, she discovered Simon had stopped behind his shop. Completely confused, she stared up at him blankly when he came around and hauled her out. She couldn’t seem to make her legs work. He had to hold her up. “I feel--really strange,” she murmured when he stopped at the door to unlock it.
“They gave you something for pain. I see it’s knocked you for a loop. Can you walk?”
“Sure.”
She fell against the wall when he turned to lock the door. He caught her as she began to slide toward the floor. Her head swam as he bent and slipped an arm beneath her knees, hefting her against his chest. She dropped her head against his shoulder. “I can walk.”
“I saw that.”
She looped her arms around his neck loosely as he started up the stairs. “Better if I walk.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’ll drop me.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Why’m I here?” she asked vaguely as they entered the apartment and he strode across the living area.
“I didn’t want to sleep at your place so we decided to come here.”
“We did?”
She shivered as she felt something cold and soft against her back, realizing as Simon released her and straightened that he’d placed her on his bed. “I’m dirty.”
“I imagine a bath would make you feel better, but I don’t think you’re up to taking a shower tonight,” Simon murmured soothingly, leaning over and tugging the covers out from under her and then unfastening her jeans.
“What are you doing then?”
“Helping you get comfortable.”
“Okay.” She lifted her hips, trying to help him pull the jeans off and finally opened her eyes when she felt him lean over her.
A faint smile curled his lips. “You are very agreeable when you’re high.”
She smiled back at him. “Did they give you some, too?” she asked, lifting a hand and touching the corner of his bruised lip and the swollen area beneath his eye very carefully.
He swallowed audibly. “You haven’t eaten anything today, have you?”
Anna frowned, trying to think. “Maybe. What day is it?”
He caught her hand, lowering it to the bed. “I think you need sleep more. I’ll feed you in the morning.”
She nodded. She felt like her eyes were crossing anyway from trying to keep them open.
* * * *
Elspeth felt her knees turn to water as the door finally gave way to the pounding upon it with the sharp crack of splintering wood. She collapsed on the mattress beside Anne, her arms covering her sister protectively.
Anne’s only response to the gesture was to groan and struggle to move away, for it pained her even to be touched lightly. She began muttering under her breath again, about the heat, about the babe, about the pain--about Lord Bainbridge, who stood now at the foot of Anne’s sick bed, braced to defend the woman he had taken.
The cloth in Elspeth’s hand that she had been using to try to cool the fever was nigh as hot now as her sister’s flesh, but she bathed her sister’s face anyway, trying to soothe her, trying not to think about the babe.
It had not moved in more days now than Elspeth could count. She did not want to think what that might mean.
Elation had filled her briefly when she had heard the outer wall collapse and the roar of Westmoreland’s army as they breached the castle walls at long last, but fear had not been far behind it as she heard the desperate cries of the castle’s starved defenders.
Were they saved, she wondered? Or was it merely an end to their suffering?
Almost upon the thought, Lord Westmoreland filled the doorway like an avenging angel--or a demon from hell, for blood spattered his armor liberally from shoulder to calf. Her heart seized in her chest for she saw death in his expression, saw such rage in his eyes that they scarcely seemed human. His gaze flickered briefly toward the bed where Anne was thrashing about feverishly, moving over Elspeth as if he did not even note her presence, before fixing upon Lord Bainbridge.
With a feral roar, he lunged forward, swinging his long sword in a deadly arch toward Bainbridge’s neck. The force of the blow, if it had struck true, would have cloven the man from neck to groin.
Elspeth covered her mouth to stifle a scream as Bainbridge’s blade blocked the blow and the men collided chest to chest with a resounding crack of their chest plates, shoving against one another to free their blades and swing again. For many moments they held stalemate, so evenly matched in size and strength that neither man could gain dominance over the other. Frozen with shock and horror, Elspeth’s vision focused upon the straining, growling men almost as if she were watching through a tunnel and then widened fractionally as her focus moved beyond them to the door.
Soldiers crowded the opening, jockeying for position to watch the furious battle as Westmoreland and Bainbridge at last broke apart and began to struggle back and forth across the room in a macabre dance of death, both men using their heavy swords to hammer at each other as if they were more intent upon beating each other to a bloody pulp than hacking with the blades. The ring of metal against metal quickly became near deafening as sword struck sword or armor plating. The grunts of exertion and pain, the growls of fury from the two men and the shouts of encouragement from Westmoreland’s men vied with the steady, pounding ring of metal until Elspeth wanted to cover her ears and close her eyes to shut herself away from the savagery.
She had no idea how long she remained frozen in her terror, unable to move, hardly daring to breathe as she watched the deadly battle. As Bainbridge stumbled back against the bedstead where Anne lay, however, she was jarred into awareness of her own and her sister’s peril.
It still took all that she could do to move. Struggling with her sister’s weight, she began trying to drag her from the bed with no goal in mind other than to move further from the fray. “Anne! Help me,” she cried tearfully when she saw that she was making no progress. “We will be hacked to pieces if we do not get out of the way and I cannot carry you.”
The urgency in her voice roused Anne slightly, but she merely opened her eyes and stared blankly at her sister for a long moment. Finally, to Elspeth’s relief, she began trying to move, pushing along the bed as Elspeth pulled on her until she thought her arms would separate at the sockets. When Anne finally reached the edge of the bed, she rolled off, landing on top of Elspeth and flattening her with her weight.
The fighting men slammed into the bed again, sending it screeching across the floor toward Elspeth and Anne just as Elspeth managed to roll Anne off of her. The heavy wood side railing slammed against Elspeth’s shoulder and the back of her head sending sharp pain through her and threatening blackness.
Her head swam sickeningly. Her arm went numb from shoulder to wrist with the pain.
If anything, though, the pain steadied her, brought her concentration more firmly to the need to escape the battle. Climbing over Anne’s bloated belly, Elspeth got to her knees, grasped Anne by one arm and began tugging with her good arm, making progress only by inches. One of the men at the door, finally noticing their plight, darted past the combatants and caught Anne beneath the arms, pulling her to the far corner and then kneeling before her to protect her with his body as shield. Elspeth followed, scooping Anne’s head and shoulders onto her lap and holding her tightly for her own comfort as much as to protect her sister.
“He has come?” Anne muttered weakly.
Elspeth sniffed at the tears that crowded close, burning her eyes, making her throat close painfully. “Aye.”
“I do not want to die. Do not let me die, Beth.”
“Shhh,” Elspeth said soothingly, her voice breaking on a sob. “I am here, Anne. I will protect ye.”
Rocking Anne in her arms as if she were a child, she watched the fighting men worriedly. Blood now trickled from fresh wounds on both of them. Even from across the room she could hear that both were breathing heavily with effort, weakening from blood loss, tiring from swinging their heavy blades over and over.
A different fear invaded her, pushing her fear for herself and Anne to the back of her mind. Westmoreland had already been fighting for hours. He was a big man and a fierce and skilled warrior, but Bainbridge was nearly as large and not weary from battle.
Even as the fear tightened painfully around her heart, though, Bainbridge began to waver on his feet. He went to his knees, barely managing to block the blade Westmoreland swung at him as he went down. “Quarter!” he gasped. “I will yield if you will give me quarter.”
“No quarter,” Westmoreland roared furiously. “Ye have taken what is mine. My lady lies near death because of yer vendetta against me. I will have yer life!”
Uttering an enraged roar, Bainbridge launched himself upward, slamming his shoulder into Westmoreland’s middle so hard he carried him several feet backwards, ramming him into the wall. “Nay. Tis not my doing that she is ill and nigh starved unto death. Tis because of your determination to take her back when she wants none of ye!”
“I will see ye die slowly if ye have befouled her with yer touch!” Westmoreland growled.
Bainbridge laughed without humor. “Tis my son that grows in her belly, fool!”
* * * *
“Nay! Tis a foul lie, you black hearted knave!” Anna screamed fearfully as Westmorland’s gaze slid toward them, her arms tightening in instinctive protectiveness around her sister only to discover that she had vanished and her arms were empty. Frantically, she searched for her sister among the covers.
She jerked all over, crying out in fear as two arms encircled her from behind, pulling her tightly against a hard chest. “Shhh! It was a nightmare.”
A shudder went through Anna, but Simon’s voice soothed her as much as it bewildered her. “She was here. I had her safe.”
“Who?”
Anna swallowed against the hard knot of fear that still made her chest ache. Confusion filled her. It had been a dream? Or was this a dream? Or both? “Simon?”
She heard the rustle of the covers and felt the bed shift and then the warmth of his skin against her back as he moved closer. “What?”
She must be dreaming. What would she be doing with Simon?
The dream had just changed, she decided groggily and relaxed again. “You were in my dream--and David,” she murmured. “Fighting.”
His arms tightened briefly. “I’m sorry I scared you, but I couldn’t let him get away with knocking you around.”
“My knight in shining armor?” Anna murmured questioningly, feeling a faint smile curl her lips.
The hand that he had been rubbing soothingly along her arm stilled. “Are you alright now?”
“It’s just the dreams,” Anna explained, feeling her mind drifting toward the comfort of nothingness again.
Disorientation set in even before Anna opened her eyes. Daylight was filtering into the room, but it was from the wrong direction. Opening her eyes slowly, she looked up at a ceiling free of cracks, free of the ugly brown water spots from past leaks. For many moments she simply lay staring at it, trying to piece together the memories floating around in her mind. Finally, she pushed herself up on one elbow and looked around.
The room she found herself in was certainly no hospital room, although she remembered waking several times to the sterile, institutional surroundings of a hospital. Shoving her hair back from her face, she sat up and studied the room, trying to decide if there was anything at all familiar about it and fighting the sense of panic that surged inside her when she didn’t find what she was searching for.
When she pushed the covers back, she discovered she was still wearing the shirt she’d worn the day before, but not her pants. Further unnerved, she struggled toward the edge of the bed and threw her legs over the side, staring down at the shiny hardwood floor beneath her feet and her crumpled jeans.
Simon had gotten her out of jail.
She covered her face with her hands. That hadn’t been a nightmare.
Actually, it was, but unfortunately a real, living nightmare, not the scary sort of dream that vanished with daylight.
She’d relived that horrible fight over and over all night, feeling the fear and the awful sense of helplessness more intensely each time until she felt as sore, and tired, and tense, and uneasy as if she’d fought all night.
The smell of food hit her like a slap when she opened the door a sliver and peered around. Her mouth filled with saliva. Her belly cramped painfully, almost nauseatingly. Nerving herself, she opened the door wider and followed the hallway to the living area, peering around the wall of the kitchen.
As if he sensed her presence, Simon spoke. He didn’t glance toward her. “Hungry?”
Anna jumped. “Could I--would you mind if I take a shower?”
He flicked a frowning glance in her direction then. “Of course not.”
Retreating to the bedroom again, Anna crossed the master bedroom and went into the bath. While she was waiting for the hot water, she shoved her panties down to her ankles and dragged her T-shirt off over her head. A gasp escaped her as she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror.
One eye was swollen, but her cheek had caught most of the impact, twisting her face out of shape.
She looked like something out of a horror movie. She didn’t think she could bear to face Simon looking like she did right now, and yet what choice did she have?
Remembering abruptly that she’d left her jeans lying beside the bed, she decided to make a dash to retrieve them.
She fell back a step as she jerked the bathroom door open. Simon was standing on the other side, a T-shirt held limply in one hand as if he’d been in the act of hooking it on the doorknob.
Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, his gaze moved from her face downward while Anna stood immobile, unable even to think.
“I thought you might like a clean shirt to put on,” he managed to say finally, his voice sounding strained.
It cracked the shell of shock holding her. “Thank you,” Anna muttered, grabbing the shirt and slamming the door abruptly in his face.
She leaned shakily against the door once she’d shut it, her knees threatening to buckle. After several unnerving moments had passed, she heard him move away.
Having lost all interest in retrieving her jeans, Anna moved to the shower, adjusted the water and climbed in. The hot water made her palms sting. She stared down at the soggy, disgusting bandages around her hands for several moments and finally peeled them off, dropping the gauze into a wastebasket between the shower and the toilet.
There were other bandages, a large one taped to her right elbow and an even bigger one on both knees. She peeled those off, as well, ignoring the sting and the tightness of mending flesh, almost welcoming the pain as it chased away the dregs of the drug in her system and brought more clarity to her mind.
There was a bottle of herbal scented shampoo and conditioner on a shelf in the shower. She stared at the bottles, wondering if Simon had bought them for himself or for ‘guests’. She finally decided it must be the latter. She couldn’t recall ever noticing such a scent on him.
Without even realizing it at first, she probed her memory for any impressions of a woman in the bed she’d slept in. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not when nothing surfaced. It might mean there’d been no woman in his bed, and it might not.
And it wasn’t her business either way.
But, strangely enough, she discovered she hadn’t actually gotten the impression of Simon in the bed either--except for the dream she vaguely remembered of feeling him lying next to her--if it had been a dream.
Thrusting it aside after a moment, she washed her hair and bathed, trying to remove the memories of the day before as well as the dirt from wallowing around on the pavement with the soap and hot water. She was not very successful in the first, but she felt a little better, slightly less intimidated about being in Simon’s apartment, more capable of dealing with the confrontation she knew awaited her.
When she’d wrung as much water from her hair as she could, she towel dried it, and then raked the tangles from it with the comb on the vanity. After studying the T-shirt Simon had given her indecisively for several moments, she finally pulled it on. She wasn’t comfortable about wearing his clothes. It seemed far too intimate. And yet, she also wanted to distance herself from the incident the day before.
She had no clean panties and she had no desire to put on the ones she’d been wearing. She was embarrassed even to think Simon had seen the ugly, worn things, but she couldn’t remember taking her jeans off herself.
She didn’t want to leave them lying around either. She’d already dropped them in the trash can when it dawned on her that Simon probably emptied his own trash. Snatching them out of the wastebasket again, she glanced around the bathroom a little desperately and finally simply balled them in her hand.
She opened the bathroom door more cautiously this time, peering around the bedroom before she darted to the bed and grabbed her jeans up, shoving her feet quickly through the legs and pulling them up. The rough fabric scraped her raw knees. She saw when she’d fastened them that she’d busted the knees on both pant legs when she’d hit the pavement. The fabric around the splits had tar ground into it and dried blood.
Her best pair of jeans and they were ruined! Stifling the mixture of anger and despair that threatened to overwhelm her, she shoved her panties into her jeans pocket and left the bedroom.
Simon was standing at one of the tall windows when she came out, staring at the view beyond. He turned at her entrance, his gaze flickering over her briefly before he moved toward the table.
He’d waited for her.
She sat, staring at the food. Her stomach was so empty she felt sick even looking at it. Bracing herself, she took a small bite of the fluffy eggs. They were cold.
Simon’s chair scraped across the floor as he got up impatiently and grabbed their plates. “I’ll make more.”
“It’s alright,” Anna said quickly.
“I hope you like scrambled, because I’m not much of a hand at over easy.”
Anna hesitated. “I can cook them--if you like them that way.”
He turned and studied her a moment and finally held the pan out. Getting up, Anna moved around the table, taking the pan and setting it on the stove top. Simon plunked a bottle of vegetable oil on the counter beside the stove while Anna was looking around for it. Moving around her, he gathered the eggs and ham from the refrigerator and set them on the counter, and then took out two clean plates.
It seemed awfully wasteful just to dump the whole meal he’d cooked into the food disposal, but Anna kept the thoughts to herself, concentrating on cracking the eggs and dropping them into the oil without breaking the yolks. “Egg turner?”
He pulled open a drawer and handed her one before dropping the ham into a skillet he’d set on the other side of the stove.
It felt a little strange to be working in the kitchen beside him, and yet, even stranger, they seemed to click, to manage it without falling over each other. Feeling pleased with herself when she managed to cook the eggs perfectly and scooped them onto the plates, Anna made fresh toast while Simon finished frying up the ham. “I suppose you know this is a horrendously unhealthy breakfast,” she murmured, buttering the toast.
“You don’t need to be worrying about fat.”
Anna stiffened. “You think I’m too skinny?”
When he didn’t answer, she nerved herself to glance at him. Warmth suffused her when she saw that he was studying her as if he could see right through the clothes she was wearing, or he was remembering the incident earlier. Maybe she was only being hopeful, but there was nothing in his eyes to indicate he hadn’t liked what he saw.
He was frowning when he looked away. “Why worry about what I think? What does whatshisname think?”
What little appetite Anna had had vanished. She moved past Simon, setting the plate of toast on the table. “He seems to think I’m his property,” she said a little stiffly.
“Are you?” Simon asked, setting the plates on the table and settling in his chair again.
“He was drunk.”
“I got the impression that’s not unusual for him.”
Anna sighed, striving for patience. “Look, whatever you think, I hadn’t seen him in months. I hooked up with him last year. We lived together for a few months, and then we split.”
“His view seems a little different than yours. For that matter, I have to wonder what he was doing there, with your car, if you and he aren’t together now.”
Anna propped an elbow on the table, rubbing her throbbing face absently. “I ran into him yesterday. I’m not sure he knew I was living there until then--he’d just moved in. He seemed to think we would take up where we left off, but I certainly didn’t encourage him to think so.”
“Then why did you loan him your car?”
“I didn’t loan it to him, okay!” Anna snapped angrily. “He helped himself--like he always has. It was just gone when I came out. There’s no damned key, no way to lock the car because even if I had a key the window’s broke now.”
Simon said nothing for several moments. “Why would I believe that when every other word out of your mouth is a lie?”
Anna stared at him, trying to swallow past the knot of abject misery in her throat. Finally, she pushed away from the table and got to her feet jerkily. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this and got arrested, but it wouldn’t have happened if you’d just stayed in the car--or if you’d dropped me by the curb like I asked. This isn’t all my fault, damn it!”
Simon let out a hiss of irritation. “Sit down and eat.”
Anna shook her head. “I have to go now. Thanks for what you did for me, but I need to go.”
He caught up to her as she reached the door. Catching her shoulder, he spun her around. A sharp pang of fear pierced her heart, formed a suffocating band around her chest. She winced as he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her face up, her eyes widening as she stared up into his heated gaze.
He moved imperceptibly closer. The heat of his breath caressed her lips, making them tingle with sensation. Lightly, so lightly she wasn’t certain at first that they had even touched, his lips grazed hers. The touch, faint though it was, forced the air from her lungs as if she’d been punched.
Drugging, heated sensation washed through her as he fit his mouth more firmly against hers, flicking his tongue out to skate it teasingly over the tender surface of her lips. She swallowed with an effort, straining toward him even as he began to pull away.
His lips twisted wryly. “Ouch,” he muttered, releasing her and examining his bruised lower lip with his fingers.
Disappointed, Anna studied his face hopefully, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes shuttered as his gaze slid away from her. She sensed that he’d withdrawn much more than his physical nearness.
“I shouldn’t have brought up that mess yesterday. Come and eat, before its cold again.”
As he caught her arm and urged her back toward the kitchen table, Anna felt a strange sensation wash over her. It was almost as if he was a complete stranger to her, someone she’d never met.
For just a moment, she thought she had caught a glimpse of desire in his eyes that was almost as unnerving as it was thrilling, and then, almost as if he had the ability to simply switch it off at will, the raw, savage emotions had vanished.
A shiver of uneasiness traced a path down her spine as her mind supplied her with the horrific image of Simon and David brutally pounding at one another. She had never been more frightened in her life, not only because of the ferocity of their actions but the intensity and violence of their rage toward one another. If she had not witnessed it herself she would never have believed Simon was capable of such a thing as brawling in the parking lot. She had not known him long and yet he had always seemed so patient, controlled and even tempered, so civilized and sophisticated.
She had to wonder just how well she really knew him. She began to suspect, though, that she didn’t know him at all.
Chapter Six
Anna was surprised when Simon gathered up empty boxes and carried them out to his car, placing them in the back seat before he got in. Certain it was not her business, or, more accurately, because she feared he would snub her for her nosiness, she’d contained her curiosity.
Tension coiled inside her, at any rate, ousting every other thought as Simon pulled into the parking lot of the motor court. She saw no sign of David and she was fairly certain he must still be in jail, and it still took an effort to make herself get out of the car.
The landlord had put the padlock back on her door she discovered when she reached her apartment door. Anna stared at it in disbelief, feeling anger boiling slowly inside of her. As she whirled to stalk down to the office to demand he remove it, however, Simon stepped past her, slid the tire tool from his car very calmly under the latch, and popped the lock off.
Anna was still gaping at him in stunned disbelief when he returned to the car, causally dropped the tool in the trunk and then moved around to the back door to collect the boxes from the rear seat of the car. When he passed her on his way into the apartment, she followed him, blankly watching him drop the boxes onto the bed.
Straightening, he looked around the room speculatively. “What do you want to take?”
Anna commenced to blinking as the words impacted in her brain but remained undecipherable. “What?”
“I assume the place was furnished. Do you want me to help you pack?”
Anna looked around a little dazedly. “I’m packing?” she asked blankly.
Simon frowned. “You can’t stay here. Your boyfriend is probably still in jail, but he won’t be long.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend!” Anna snapped, focusing on that comment before the rest sank in and a wave of coldness washed over her.
He shrugged.
“You broke the lock off the door,” she said, her voice not accusing so much as confused.
“It would’ve been hard to get in without breaking it,” he retorted dryly.
“But--you broke it. He’ll call the cops.”
He frowned, apparently thinking it over.
The room darkened and Anna turned to discover the landlord, huffing from his rush to get to her apartment before she could make her getaway, stood in the entrance. “What the hell’s going on here? You break in?”
Anna’s wariness of getting arrested again vanished instantly and anger took its place. She met him in the doorway, her stance belligerent. “It’s my apartment!”
“Not anymore, it ain’t. I evicted you.”
Anna’s jaw dropped before anger caught up to her surprise. “I’m paid up for weeks! I’ve got my receipt. Did you evict David, too? Or just me because you don’t have the balls to try something like that with him?”
“No whores,” he snarled, pushing his face aggressively close to hers so that his foul breath fanned her hair around her face. “There’s a sign right there on the front of my desk.”
Abruptly, Simon clamped a hand on her shoulder, thrusting her aside. His hands closed on the neck of the landlord’s filthy shirt and he lifted the landlord upward by his shirt until they were almost nose to nose. “What did you say?” he growled.
The man’s tiny pig eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “She was arrested for soliciting,” he said a little weakly. “I run a respectable place here.”
Anna grabbed Simon’s arm, trying to pry him loose from her landlord. “Please don’t--don’t do anything to him. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
Simon slid a hard glance at her. “Do I look worried?”
Her chin wobbled as visions of cops swarming over the place like furious bees and slamming both of them down on the ground and cuffing them filled her head.
Growling as if he was disappointed by her interference, Simon shook the man and finally released him. “Take your sorry ass back the office, you spineless cur. But I warn you now, call the cops and you will deeply regret it.”
Anna studied the tense set of Simon’s shoulders uneasily as he stood in the doorway watching the landlord limp back in the direction from which he’d come. She could see nothing but his profile from where she stood, but it was enough to see barely restrained violence in his expression.
Again the odd sense that she was staring at someone different than the man she’d thought she was coming to know washed through her, leaving uneasiness in its wake.
Violence was hardly something new to her. She’d been surrounded by it as far back as she could remember, seen people behaving like little more than animals as they struggled for survival and fought to assert their dominance over others weaker than themselves. She was not particularly surprised when she saw it erupt, not repulsed, only wary until she was certain that it would not engulf her for it was as ‘normal’ to her world as breathing.
What unnerved her was that Simon had been so very good at hiding the streak of aggression she saw in him now. If she’d given it any thought at all, she would’ve pegged him as ‘wealthy weak’, those who’d had life handed to them, who’d never known hardship, or struggle, and never had to use physical means to exert their power or protect themselves. They had only to pull out their wallet, not use their fists, and they had no idea of how to survive without their money.
“Pack.”
She jumped at the brusqueness of his voice. “I can’t leave.”
His eyes narrowed assessingly. “Because?”
She knew immediately that he thought she just didn’t want to go because of David. He hadn’t believed anything she’d said. “I don’t have anywhere to go, or any money--and I already paid to stay.”
His gaze slid down the walkway that fronted the apartments. “I’m sure the landlord won’t mind refunding your money.”
“Oh God! Simon! You wouldn’t....”
He gave her a look and then, almost as if he had to mentally command himself to do so, the tension eased from his stance. “You can stay in the apartment above the shop.”
Anna felt her jaw sag in surprise. Briefly, hope fluttered in her chest, but it winked out almost at once. She had been indulging herself in a little fantasy she was hardly even aware of herself, envisioning herself as some sort of modern day Cinderella, swept off her feet by a handsome prince.
She’d been lying to herself, she realized abruptly.
Whatever Simon’s motives were for befriending her, it wasn’t purely from the goodness of his heart and she didn’t think it had anything to do with coveting her body.
He had set out to charm her, but it had been calculating. She didn’t believe the emotion that had inspired it was an interest in her as woman. Even the kiss earlier, when she thought she’d seen desire in his eyes, had been a calculated move--to soothe her, to diffuse the anger between them, but not because he had not been able to help himself, or because he had simply wanted to.
It went against the grain to be ordered around, but people had been ordering her around all of her life and every single time she’d tried to fight back, she’d come out the loser. She still resented it. She was still suspicious of his motives, but she was not so hard headed and determined to have her own way that it didn’t occur to her that it was in her best interests to go with him, whatever his reasons for offering.
They were going to let David out sooner or later and he’d come right straight back to her and probably beat the hell out of her ‘getting him’ arrested. Without money, she had no where to go to escape him.
Swallowing her wounded pride, her uneasiness about his motives, and her resentment that he seemed to think he could boss her around on and off the job, Anna nodded.
She didn’t have to stay. She could go with him now, stay until she had money saved up, and then leave.
He had not once touched her in anger or even threatened to and even though she was unnerved at the ferocity of his defense, somewhat stunned to discover he even knew how to fight, she reminded herself that it had been for her protection that he’d behaved so aggressively.
She didn’t pack much. She was embarrassed about how little she had that was actually worth keeping. She didn’t even need half the boxes he’d brought. When he’d carried the boxes out, she tossed her room key onto the bed and got into her car. Dismay and anger filled her when she got it started and looked at the gas gauge. That bastard! He’d used up every drop of her gas and brought the thing back on fumes.
“Do you need this?”
Anna sent him a look. “Yes, I do.”
He shrugged. “I’ll follow you.”
Anna bit her lip. “I don’t know if I have enough gas to get to your shop,” she admitted finally.
Without a word, Simon dug his money clip from his front pocket and pulled off a couple of bills, handing them to her. “I’ll follow you to the gas station.”
Fear followed her all the way to the station. She expected the car to shut off every time she had to stop. To her relief, however, she managed to pull in and stop at a pump before the car coughed, breathed its last gasp of gasoline and died.
By the time she’d climbed out, Simon was already pumping the gas. Altering directions, she went in to pay.
The girl at the register dragged her gaze from Simon and looked Anna over. “He do that to your face?”
Having forgotten how badly she looked, Anna merely stared at the girl blankly for a moment. Finally, she shook her head. “My ex.”
“That is one fine lookin’ white boy. I shore did hate to think he was that way.”
Pleasure filled Anna. She couldn’t resist glancing out the plate glass windows at Simon. He was handsome, but there was nothing at all boyish about him. She didn’t think she’d ever met a man that so much … man. “He rescued me, actually.”
The girl grinned at her as she took the bills Anna held out, rang up the transaction and handed her the change. “Naw! Really? Wish I had somethin’ like that to rescue me.”