Her Sweet Talkin' Man (3 page)

“You don't like being called a slut, Crystal? I don't see why not,” he said. “After all, that's what you are, isn't it? Your son is a bastard, isn't he? You let his father into your bed when you weren't married. How many men have there been since then? Or do you just say yes to every man who wants you?”

Panic and fear rose in her throat. His grip on her wrist tightened as he leaned close enough for her to smell his sour breath. His grimy fingers cut into her skin.

“Let me go, Branson,” she said, trying to sound
calm. She would not make a scene or allow him to ruin the proceedings for the maternity wing. Branson was not a huge man. Surely she could get away. Years ago there had been another day when he had made ugly remarks to her, but he had never actually tried to hurt her. At least not physically.

“Oh, I don't think I'll let you go just yet,” he said, reeling her in. “You share your favors with other men you're not married to, but I've never even touched you. I always wanted to touch you.”

She opened her mouth. To order him away or to scream, she wasn't sure which.

But he yanked her hard and pulled her up against him. A cry ripped from her throat as she shoved at him and tried to keep his lips from getting near hers. Her wrists were burning as he twisted them and held fast, shoving his face into hers.

“Please. No,” she said. “Don't.”

“I never even had a kiss,” he said. He pressed his wet lips to hers. She fought the blackness that threatened to envelop her as he tried to hold her still and she struggled to pull away. His laughter mocked her pitiful efforts.

And then she was free, the cool air rushing over her face. Branson was kicking at someone. She blinked to clear her eyes and saw that Ace had Branson's arm pulled up behind his back.

“You don't want to touch a lady who hasn't invited you,” Ace said, his voice low and cold. “That's not exactly the way to win points with a woman. It's definitely not a gentlemanly thing to do, now is it?”

Branson swore and tried to wrest his arm free. “She's not exactly a lady in my book.”

Ace spun Branson around, shoving him up against a tree, his arm lodged against Branson's windpipe, leaving him barely enough air to breathe, judging by Branson's choked gurgling. “Then maybe you've been reading the wrong book, buddy. Now, I'm going to ease up on you real slow, and I want you to tell the lady you're sorry you touched her, that you're sorry you even dared to come near her.”

Ace eased the pressure on Branson's throat, and the man muttered an even fouler word. He tried to break free.

With barely a shrug, Ace slammed Branson up against the tree again, hard enough to send a few leaves fluttering to the ground. “Let's try this again, shall we, buddy?” he said, leaning in to apply more pressure. “You want to reconsider that apology?”

Crystal didn't want an apology from Branson. She just wanted him gone. But there was such steel in Ace's voice and he was so focused on what he was doing that she didn't want to distract him for fear Branson would pull free and strike out, catching Ace off guard.

“I'm really starting to lose patience with your lack of good manners. You ready with that apology yet, pal?” Ace asked.

Branson raised dark, hate-filled eyes to Crystal. “Sorry,” he said, the word clipped and barely audible.

She gave him a curt nod just as a security guard approached. “Thanks, man. We'll take him off your
hands,” he told Ace. “Ms. Fiona saw that something was happening and sent us over, Ms. Bennett. We'll get him out of here right away,” he promised.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

But her words were nearly drowned out by Branson's sudden shouting as the security guard removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

“You tramp, Crystal, you're gonna pay for this. I know how you operate. I know who and what you are. You're a backstabber. You promise things and then don't deliver. But I know that, and I'll be back. I'll be lookin' for you. You and your kind took something I wanted. Now maybe I'll take something
you
want, and I do know what means the most to you. Don't think I don't.”

His words were spewed out, dark and ominous. He lunged furiously, nearly dragging to the ground the security guard, who had only Branson's right wrist cuffed. Finally another security guard grabbed Branson's other arm, and together they cuffed his hands behind his back and pulled him from the area.

The silence that followed was like a thick choking smoke. Crystal's heart was beating frantically. What had he meant? What was he going to do?

She surprised herself by raising her gaze to Ace as if just looking at him could calm her. He was standing nearer than she'd expected. When her eyes met his, he moved closer and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Go ahead. Lean on me,” he whispered, then looked up at the small crowd who'd gathered.

“I tell you, some people just shouldn't even go to
parties,” he said, addressing the group. “That one there looks like he started drinking early and needs to sleep it off. I guess he just didn't like it when Ms. Bennett suggested he leave and get some rest. But it
was
a pretty good demonstration of the security at Mission Creek Memorial, though, wasn't it? You can all rest easy knowing you'll always be safe here. Makes you feel good seeing this hospital is on the job protecting the people staying here, doesn't it?” He smiled reassuringly on that last note, and everyone began to murmur among themselves and drift away. One or two of them gave Crystal a worried look, but somehow she managed to follow Ace's lead and paste on a smile. In spite of the fact that her heart was still hammering.

Slowly, almost without her noticing it, Ace walked her into the deeper shelter of some trees where some small benches were positioned. He eased her down on one, and she realized that her legs had been a bit shaky and she'd been leaning on Ace, an almost total stranger.

She glanced up at him, wondering what he really thought about what had happened back there. Especially since she herself wasn't quite sure what had happened. She hadn't seen Branson in years.

But Ace's expression was unreadable. He bore no sign of his struggle with Branson other than one disheveled lock of black hair. He looked like a man who was used to fighting and didn't let it bother him. It bothered her that he had been forced to come to her rescue.

“I seem to be causing you a great deal of trouble today,” she said.

He ignored her concerned tone and gave her a slow sexy grin. “Don't apologize. I'm rather partial to trouble. Been in the thick of it all my life.”

She gulped at the look in his eyes. It was the look a man gives a woman who interests him, at least physically. Her pulse began to trip over itself. This just wouldn't do. It wasn't that she didn't find him amazingly attractive. She did, and more than that, she was grateful for his help and his kind attention, more grateful than she could say. But he was obviously the worst kind of man. The kind that flipped through women like the pages of a magazine. The kind she never went near, not anymore.

“Well, then, all I can say is thank you for your help. I'm indebted to you,” she said. “If I can ever repay you…” She hoped that didn't sound as bad to him as it did to her.

He shook his head. “For what? I told you, I welcome trouble.”

Oh, she'd just bet he did. She'd bet he caused it, too. Which meant the only smart thing for her to do now was to get as far away as possible from the attraction he held for her. “Thank you, anyway,” she said. “But I guess I should get back and make sure everything is running smoothly.”

He nodded, but the long look he gave her held her as immobile as Branson's death grip. “You want to tell me what that was all about back there?”

C
rystal blinked. No, she didn't want to talk about what had happened with Branson. She didn't want to talk about it or even think about it. But Ace stood there waiting, his blue eyes studying her, his stance loose, almost relaxed.

As if he could wait forever for her to speak.

“I don't exactly know,” she finally confessed. “Years ago, when I was in high school, I dated Branson. He seemed like a quiet shy boy at first. After we'd gone out once or twice, though, he…well, I could tell that he wasn't always operating under the same rules as the rest of the world. Little things upset him a lot more than they did most people. He would get unreasonably angry if he forgot his textbook at home, angry enough to throw things. If I didn't say ‘Goodbye, Branson,' instead of just ‘Goodbye,' he would rant and rave. After just two dates I told him that I didn't think I was right for him and that he should find someone else.”

She stared into Ace's eyes. She was embarrassed, and her first instinct was to look down, but she'd done enough of that in her life and so she forced herself to hold his gaze.

Instead, he was the one to glance down. Just once.
Just a quick look. She realized she was twisting her hands together. So much for appearing poised and calm.

“I take it Branson wasn't exactly happy with your decision.”

She wasn't sure she could say the next part. She wasn't sure why she was even considering saying anything, but there was something very compelling about Ace's unreadable expression. It was the sort of expression a cop might wear.
Just the facts, ma'am,
he seemed to be saying. And she realized she'd never really told anyone about what had happened between her and Branson. Maybe because all of them thought they already knew and no one wanted to talk about it.

“Branson blew up. He screamed and yelled. In the end he begged. I was…I was frightened, but I knew that it would be worse giving in than going forward. I left. Soon after that, the whispers started. Someone started a rumor that I was easy, that I would let anyone do anything, that I would sleep with any male who asked, that I was a tramp. Branson told them that I'd done things with him that I'd never done. Most people didn't believe him, but a few did. That hurt so much that I went into hiding, which was the wrong thing to do. People took it as an admission of guilt. It took me years to win back my self-esteem. And then I met John. I had Timmy out of wedlock. The rumors started again, only this time I stared them down. The Carsons found me a good job here at the hospital, and I hold my head up high.”

“No reason you shouldn't,” Ace said softly.

She realized that she'd made her last statement somewhat defensively, but that Ace hadn't seemed to notice.

“Anyway, that's my story, such as it is. I haven't had contact with Branson for years. He's spent a lot of time in and out of jail. He did have some conflict with the hospital once in the not-too-distant past. His wife had experienced complications of childbirth due to alcohol abuse, and the doctors were unable to save the baby, which was premature. Branson tried to sue, unsuccessfully. For the past year, he's been in jail for burglarizing an auto parts store, so I have no idea what brought him here today or why he chose to approach me. What I do know is that I really had better get back to work now.”

Ace gazed down at her. She stood up and he stepped aside to let her past.

“Thank you for stepping in to help me,” she said, holding out her hand.

He stared down at her hand, and for a moment her palm tingled. Then he closed his fingers around hers. His hand was large and warm, but she didn't feel threatened the way she had with Branson. Instead, she felt a desire to stay there connected to him. Quickly she withdrew her hand and turned away.

He fell into step beside her.

She glanced to the side and frowned. “I know I've twice looked like a helpless boob today, but I assure you that I can take care of myself.”

“I know that.” He continued walking by her side.

“I really don't think he's going to come back and bother me again.”

“Probably not.”

“The security officers took him away. He's gone.”

“Looks that way.”

“Ace, you don't need to escort me. I'm not going to get in any more trouble.”

He raised one lazy brow and she held back a smile. She couldn't really blame him, considering the way the day had gone.

“I'm not normally this catastrophe-prone,” she promised, and this time she wasn't sure whether she was talking to him or to herself.

He stopped, turning to face her, and took both her hands in his. “Everyone knows that. I can't tell you how many total strangers have told me that you are the one responsible for this new wing. I believe the way they put it was ‘Crystal Bennett can turn on that smile and talk you into donating money you haven't even started to earn yet.”'

She laughed. “Well, I'm not that bad—or that good—but we really did need this maternity wing.”

“The hospital didn't handle births?”

“Of course they did, but everything was old, kind of cold and sterile. It's very…well, it's frightening when you have your first baby. Lots of the mothers are young. They're scared. They need to know that their babies are going to get the best care and that they're going to be born into a warm welcoming world. This new wing is designed to make having a baby much safer and less distressing.”

Ace gazed down at her with fierce blue eyes. “Is that how it was for you? Frightening?”

Oh, no. She hadn't meant to bring out those pro
tective instincts in him again. Even though she
had
been frightened giving birth to Timmy alone.

“I was a lioness,” she managed to say with a straight face.

He chuckled and brushed a finger across her cheek. “I'll bet you were,” he said. “Now come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“I've been watching you all afternoon. It's getting late, and you've been so busy that you haven't eaten.”

“I'll eat,” she promised, “but I'm still working. When it's over, I'll definitely be fed,” she said, lifting her chin as he gave her one of those I-don't-believe-you looks. “Don't worry about me. Like I told you, I know how to take care of myself. I'm used to it and I like it,” she said firmly.

“Oh, but it's not nearly as much fun as having a gorgeous man take over for a while, Crystal.” A soft teasing voice sounded at Crystal's shoulder and she turned to see Fiona Carson Martin smiling at her and Ace.

“Fiona,” Crystal said with a smile. “I'm glad to see you could make it. Is everything all right?”

Fiona laughed. “Yes, very all right. I'm sorry I was late, but I was almost ready to slip my dress on when…well, my husband can be quite a distraction.”

Crystal felt the warm color climbing her cheeks. She tried not to look at Ace, but couldn't seem to help herself. He was smiling at her.

“Speaking of distractions, Crystal, why don't you introduce me to your young man? He seems to be causing quite a stir. The family sent me over to find
out his story. They all feel very protective toward you, you know.”

Honestly, could a woman get any warmer or pinker? “Mr.—Ace is a new acquaintance,” Crystal replied. “Fiona Carson Martin, meet Ace…” She looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to fill in his last name.

For a moment there was silence. She thought she'd seen a muscle twitch in his jaw when she introduced Fiona, but that must have been her imagination. Nothing had fazed Ace today, not being trapped in an elevator or fighting off a violent lunatic. Why should he mind being introduced to a beautiful woman? For a second Crystal felt a pain in her heart. A ridiculous pain, she assured herself. Of course she didn't care how Ace reacted to Fiona or any other woman.

She looked up at Ace, who still hadn't spoken.

His frozen expression relaxed into a smile, almost as if he had willed it to please her. “Sorry, you caught me a bit off guard there,” he said. “My name's Ace Carson, son of Ford Carson. Perhaps you know him?”

Suddenly Crystal couldn't breathe.

Fiona blinked and looked as if she couldn't think. But then, true to character, she managed to smile.

“Well, my goodness, isn't this an incredibly interesting turn? And yes, I might know Ford,” she said. “You and Daddy talk often, do you?”

Her voice issued a challenge.

Ace gave her a long, slow and very cold grin. “Never met the man.”

Fiona nodded. “I see.”

“I don't think you do.”

“You're probably right.” She studied him for long seconds. “Just out of curiosity, how old are you?”

Crystal focused her attention on her friend, who looked as if her expression had frozen in place.

“Thirty-six,” Ace finally said, clipping off the words.

A bit of life flowed back into Fiona's face and she shrugged. “Older than my oldest brother, Flynt. I guess that makes it all right. If it's true.”

Ace didn't respond to that. Crystal could see, though, that it didn't make it all right with him. His eyes were hard, his jaw tense. Fiona could probably see that, too. She never missed much.

“Would you like to meet Daddy?” she asked softly.

For a minute Crystal thought Ace wasn't going to answer. Then he shrugged. “I'll meet him.” Which wasn't quite the same as saying he'd
like
to meet him, Crystal couldn't help noting.

“Come on, I'll introduce you,” Fiona offered. “He's not here today. He's been a little under the weather these past couple of days, and since he could only manage one party today, he chose to attend the one at the country club, his home away from home. It'll be starting in just a few minutes now that things are winding down here. Crystal, I know you were planning on attending. Do you want to come along with us?”

No, she didn't. Now more than ever, she knew that Ace was dangerous. Dangerous in ways she didn't understand. And he was really still a stranger, even
more so now. A handsome, intriguing stranger who made her knees weak, who filled her with desire she didn't understand and didn't really want to acknowledge.

And now he appeared to be here for some reason known only to him. He was a man of mystery. Not even remotely safe.

Above all, she wanted a life filled with security and safety.

She didn't want to follow Ace Carson anywhere.

But he was obviously facing a few difficult moments, and she just didn't seem to be able to stop herself.

“Let's go see Ford,” she said. And for some reason she couldn't understand, she reached out and took Ace's hand. She did her very best to ignore the foolish feeling that she wanted that hand sliding down her back someday, urging her close.

Because right now she had a feeling that Ace just needed a hand to hold, and that he wasn't used to feeling that way.

Tomorrow they were both going to regret this moment. But right now she had today to contend with.

She'd become very good at never looking at tomorrow, at the possibilities or disappointments the next day might bring. Now she had to work at it even harder.

Now there was Ace.

Temptation.

She wondered if she was strong enough to resist the pull of him. Above all, she didn't want to wake up alone in bed one day soon with the imprint of a
man's body on her sheets and his license plate fading away in the distance. Not again. Never again.

But she wouldn't think about that now.

“Are you really Ford's son?” she whispered.

Blue eyes met hers. She shivered.

“Afraid so,” he said. “And I'm real sorry about all this.”

Crystal closed her eyes. The last time a man had said something like that to her, he had been leaving. And her life had never been the same.

 

“So are you really related to us?” Fiona asked Ace a few minutes later.

He nodded and looked down into Fiona's inquisitive green eyes. “You don't look very surprised,” he said.

She laughed. “You don't look like any Carson I've ever met before. Besides, surprised or not, I'm good at hiding things when I have to. And maybe I just don't believe you.”

“Fiona,” Crystal said, and he swung his gaze to the woman who had grasped his hand as if trying to protect him, the lady who had been the focus of his attention all afternoon, despite his every effort to ignore her. Her hazel eyes were clouded with worry, and her grip on his hand was tight and cold. He gave himself a mental kick for letting her get caught in the middle of this charade between him and a family who, until now, hadn't known he even existed. He knew so little about her.

Only that some man—no, make that
two
men—had treated her badly.

His grip on her hand tightened, and she gave a soft gasp.

Immediately he released her. “I'm sorry,” he said, “and don't go worrying about me. I'm not upset because Fiona thinks I may be lying.” He wouldn't tell her that it was she he worried about. She'd already assured him several times today that she was fully able to manage her affairs. He wanted to smile at the memory of how hard she'd argued her case, but he refrained from doing so. He knew she was capable. Everyone had told him so, but if she thought there was a man in the world who wouldn't want to champion her whether she welcomed it or not, then she didn't know much about men. And she had been threatened tonight. He couldn't forget that. He didn't think she could either, even though she was doing an admirable job of trying. He supposed a woman alone did a lot of that. No, he
knew
a woman alone did a lot of that.

Plus, he had a feeling that, mother or not, Crystal Bennett did
not
know very much at all about men. She brought out a protective side of him—the urge to keep her close enough to watch over her—that he didn't like admitting to. It just didn't fit into his plans, plans he'd been making for three months. Maybe plans that had been born thirty-six years ago. Not the kind of thing he could let go of just because he was worried about one small, brave, fierce woman.