Out of the Shadows (9 page)

Fearing that she would start crying again, he sat beside her and gathered her into his arms, comforting her with his embrace. “I know, honey. I know. You didn’t have any idea... I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it for you.” He cradled her head against his shoulder and rocked her back and forth for a long while. Finally, he smoothed back her hair and studied her. She had a bit more color, and her eyelids were starting to droop.

Ben pulled back the bedcovers and tenderly guided her down. He covered her with the sheet and blanket, saying, “Rest for now. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Okay,” she whispered, and went to sleep.

CHAPTER NINE

B
EN
HAD
FALLEN
FAST
, and he had fallen hard. He knew it was happening, and he had done nothing to stop it. Indeed, he did not want to stop it.

He sat beside the bed for a time just watching her sleep. He knew what he felt for her was not merely interest or infatuation. It was love. He admitted it, accepted it. He loved the way she looked, the way she talked and the way she cared for her patients. He loved the way she had felt in his arms and the way she smiled at him on rare occasions. She was smart, brave, caring, funny, fragile and precious. How could he not love her? It was so simple.

It was so extremely complicated. He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed.

After making sure she was deeply asleep, he slipped out of the room to take care of several pressing issues. Because her blouse was ruined, he went directly to the hotel’s boutique and selected a replacement. He didn’t even glance at the price, just forked over cash when the saleslady gave him the total. That process was uncomfortable enough, so he was not about to buy a bra. But hers could not be worn in its current state, so he jogged a block from the hotel to a small store to buy bleach and detergent. On the way back, he bargained with a street vendor for a large nylon backpack to replace the contaminated canvas bag, then stuffed his other purchases into it.

Ben’s final stop was the hotel bar. He was impatient to get back in case Leslie woke, so he was relieved to see that Justin Cooper had already secured a table near the door. The lawyer had obviously showered and changed and was sipping a cocktail.

Cooper remained seated when Ben approached him, so Ben pulled out the opposite chair and sat down without being invited, placing the recently procured backpack on the floor.

“Hello, Murphy. I wasn’t sure you were coming.” The men shook hands briefly. Justin’s eyes conveyed annoyance, although his tone was cordial.

“Yeah, well...I need to let you know that the plans have changed.” Ben leaned back in his chair. “Leslie won’t be able to make it tonight. She’s not feeling well and decided to order room service.”

“That’s odd. She seemed okay an hour ago,” Justin countered. Irritation and disbelief were apparent in his expression. He dropped his negligent pose and sat up straighter. His plans for the evening had been changed, and obviously he did not like it. “What room is she in? I’ll go check on her.” Pulling his wallet from his coat pocket, he gestured to the waitress.

“That won’t be necessary,” Ben replied. “I’ll take care of her.” He reached for the backpack and stood. “I trust that Bill will be able to leave tomorrow. Give him my best.” With that, he effectively dismissed the other man and started toward the lobby.

Justin Cooper was rich and handsome. He was also an aggressive and successful attorney, and he rarely lost at anything. With his father in the hospital, he’d been planning to encourage Leslie to accompany him to his room after dinner. He was reluctant to give up easily.

Angered by losing control of the situation, Cooper paused for a few seconds then threw some shillings on the table and followed. They had covered about half the distance to the elevators when he called, “Hey! Murphy! Wait a minute!”

Ben stopped and turned. “What?” His face remained expressionless, although impatience was evident in the single word.

“Look, Ben,” he said. “Leslie is here because of me and my father. I promised her dinner, so I need to see about her. Where is she?”

Ben’s words were measured and authoritative. “Like I said...she’s not feeling well and has gone to bed. I’ll tell her that you were concerned. I’m sure she’ll want to check on Bill in the morning. Good night.” With a nod, he started toward the elevators again.

In a display of bad judgment, Justin persisted. “Hey. I’m not finished.” He placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder to stop him. He regretted his action immediately, however, when Ben swung around and faced him.

“What now?” Ben’s words were spoken quietly but with an undertone that was chilling.

Feeling the tension in the hard muscle, Cooper quickly dropped his hand and took a step backward as he stared into green eyes that were cold and flat. His experience and intuition finally recognized the warning conveyed in Ben’s expression. He perceived power and danger in the other man and understood that at that moment Ben represented a considerable threat.

Justin put both hands in his pockets, unconsciously signaling surrender. “Uh, tell her thanks again.” He took another step backward. “And tell her I hope she feels better tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, he quickly headed back toward the bar, leaving Ben to watch his retreat in silence.

* * *

R
ETURNING
TO
THE
room, Ben was relieved to find Leslie still sleeping soundly. Dining on two candy bars and a soda, he watched her with longing. He had no illusions that she returned his feelings. The man he had become would hold no appeal for a woman like her. He knew he was attractive to other women—women who wanted irreverent men, women who were captivated by danger and intrigue. But to him, their appeal was virtually nonexistent.

He knew the type of man who would attract her. Someone like her dead husband—solid, smart, temperate, devoted, and, he silently scoffed, gainfully employed.

He reached out and touched her cheek very lightly, not wanting to disturb her. He let his fingers wander to her hair and found that it was still damp. He stroked the dark waves before letting his hand drop to his side. He wanted to kiss her, but he did not dare—both for his sake and for hers. Instead, he slipped off his boots and shirt and lay down on the bed, remaining on top of the bedclothes, careful not to touch her again. He knew he had several hours before the medication wore off, and he needed to sleep, too. He could rest, content with the knowledge that she was here and she was safe.

Tomorrow he would take her back to Namanga, and then the worry for her would return. He was well acquainted with the dangers she faced. She could be preyed on by bandits and mercenaries. The savanna was rife with wild animals and snakes, and disease was everywhere. Even driving the pothole-infested streets posed a threat to her. But for now she was safe.

He went to sleep thinking of her beautiful eyes.

* * *

L
ESLIE
OPENED
HER
eyes and experienced a moment of panic. She was lying on a bed in a hotel room covered by a lightweight blanket. Her thoughts cleared a little, and she recalled the shower and Ben giving her clothes and a brush. Then she turned her head and saw him lying on his side facing her, apparently sleeping. Hastily, she inspected her body with her hands and discovered that she was wearing his overly large shirt and gym shorts. Thankfully, he was still wearing his pants, and he was on the other side of the blanket.

She shifted her position only slightly, but Ben’s eyes flew open and captured hers. His stare was alert, and he sat up. “Are you all right?” His voice was low, without a hint of grogginess.

She nodded. Hesitantly, she said, “Yes. I’m okay.” She was surprised by the concern he displayed—she had expected him to be irritated or even angry.

He studied her a moment and, apparently reassured, he turned away and rose from the bed. He reached for the shirt he had draped over a chair. She was still dazed, but for some reason she was fascinated by the movement of the thick muscles in his shoulders, back and arms as he slipped on the shirt and started to button it. When that was accomplished, he turned to face her. His eyes were now wary, and he seemed uncomfortable. “I...uh... After you went to sleep last night, I went downstairs and got a few things.” He gestured toward the closet.

Leslie sat up and looked around the room. A sudden wave of dizziness assaulted her, and she had to brace herself to keep from falling over. His expression transformed from wary to alarmed, and in two steps he was by the bed.

“You said you were okay,” he growled with exasperation.

“I’m just a little light-headed.” She blinked and gradually her head stopped spinning. “It’s just that...” She rubbed her temples. “I’m so fuzzy.”

“That’s probably because you haven’t eaten anything in at least twenty-four hours,” he answered. “I’ll order room service. What do you want? Pancakes? Eggs?” The words were abrupt, and his eyes did not leave her face.

Suddenly, in a tidal wave of memories, Leslie recalled last evening’s events—being pushed to the ground and her bag being ripped away...screaming for the man to stop...the crowd yelling and hitting him...the bloody face. She was assailed with regret and shame.
The poor man!
Was he badly injured?
Did he... What if he died?
She swallowed hard and tried to blink back threatening tears. And then there was Ben... She looked up and saw that he was scowling at her.

“Leslie?” He gripped her upper arm to steady her. Anger, frustration, apprehension and something unidentifiable warred in his voice.

She remembered him washing her hands with soda and then practically carrying her to the room. Then he’d made her bathe before putting her to bed. Her blouse? Her bra? Dimly she recalled taking off her clothes to avoid the blood. She blushed and looked quickly away, studying her own hands resting on the rumpled sheet. What did Ben think of her now? And on top of everything else, he’d been compelled to stay with her. Obviously, he was annoyed at having to play nursemaid after she’d fallen apart last night. She didn’t blame him; there must be a dozen places he would rather have been.

She sighed and, glancing up, she whispered, “Ben, I am so sorry...” Her voice broke. Tears flowed freely, and she brushed them away. “I know that I’m being a huge burden... I haven’t thanked you....” She lifted her hand to cover his much larger one, which was now digging into her arm. His hand was warm and rough, and she touched it softly, trying to express gratitude.

His jaw clenched, and he snarled, “Look, don’t mention it.” He pulled away and strode back toward the desk. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Mortified by her own virtual collapse and confused by Ben’s abrupt change in mood, she stared at his back. As if from a distance, she noted that his heavy, gold-streaked hair was still confined by a band and rested a few inches below the base of his neck. Oddly, she wanted to touch it. Her answer was very quiet. “Ben, I’m really not hun—”

He whirled back to face her. “You’re going to eat breakfast if I have to shovel it in myself.” His green eyes glared. When she flinched in response to his abrasive tone, he scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed. His voice quieted when he said, “Leslie, you’ve suffered a serious shock. You’re weak, and you haven’t eaten in at least a day.” Accurately reading her continued reluctance, he tried a different tactic. “Look, we’re not leaving until I’m convinced that you’re not in danger of passing out.”

Leslie was desperate to leave the hotel room and the company of the man who obviously wanted to be rid of her. She wiped at the tears again and squared her shoulders. “You’re right. I’m sure that I need to eat something. Pancakes will help with my blood sugar...and maybe coffee will help clear my head.”

She pushed back the bedclothes and slid over to the side of the mattress. As she did, the large shirt was pushed aside to reveal her legs; her hip was barely concealed by the equally large gym shorts. Ben swore under his breath and looked away to pick up the telephone.

Leslie paused for a few seconds to allow the room to steady before proceeding to the bathroom. Her hesitation brought his attention back to her, but she missed seeing the longing in his eyes as he watched her retreating form.

“Wait just a second,” he called. When she turned and glanced at him, he gestured with his free hand. “In the closet... I got you a shirt last night. Yours isn’t wearable.” He punched the button for room service and added, “Also, I...um...bleached your bra...to make sure to get out the blood. Ah yes, room service...” He switched to Swahili and turned away to study the menu.

Leslie slid into the bathroom after retrieving her skirt and a bag marked with the hotel’s logo from the closet. She found her bra draped over the top of the shower’s glass door. She reached for it and discovered that it was pristine white and nearly dry. She shook her head and sighed in bemusement. For the life of her, she could not picture Ben Murphy washing out her underwear.

* * *

B
EN
SPENT
THE
next fifteen minutes trying to recover even a modicum of control over his responses to Leslie. He had awoken to her wide-eyed, confused stare. The humidity had caused her hair to wave in striking disarray, curling around her lovely face, and his reaction was immediate.

It had been necessary to leave the bed in haste to put as much distance as possible between them. When she sat up, she’d paled, and he was concerned that she would faint. He rushed to catch her, but touching her had been another mistake. He was furious. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t touch her, could barely even talk to her without wanting to hold her in his arms and kiss her. As she changed in the other room, his heart was thudding, and he was sweating. If he could have viewed the situation objectively, he would have thought it comical. On almost a daily basis, he dealt with all types of sordid men—gangsters, thugs, murderers and terrorists—coolly and with confidence. But suddenly he found himself having a panic attack because of a pale, slender woman with big blue eyes.

He had shouted at her. He knew that she thought he was angry with her, and in a way he was. Indeed, her actions had landed them in this situation. And he recognized that it was imperative he get out of here—soon, before he did something
really
stupid like groveling at her feet and pouring out his feelings.

With considerable effort, he managed to calm himself enough to order breakfast.

* * *

B
REAKFAST
HAD
JUST
arrived when Leslie exited the bathroom. She was much more alert following her hot shower. She’d used Ben’s brush to comb out her hair, but she had neither a band nor a clip, so it was necessary to wear it down. Along with shampoos and soaps, the hotel supplied packaged toothbrushes, so she was able to perform that little task. With grooming complete, having exchanged Ben’s clothing for the new pink blouse and yesterday’s knee-length skirt, she felt better equipped to deal with Ben.