Worcester Nights - The Boxed Set (32 page)

She pressed something against my shoulder, and the pain buckled my body, arching me back. Sean’s fingers braced more tightly into mine, and Evan drew a wet washcloth across my forehead, soothing me in  a rough voice. “Hang in there.”

Seamus was back with the hot water, and Bridgit dunked one of her cloths into it. She carefully cleaned away the wound. “You were lucky, lass. There was a lot of blood, but it seems the bullet just tore a chunk out of your deltoid. I’ve seen this before. It’ll heal up, over time, and in a few months you’ll be as good as new. In Ireland you wouldn’t even be hospitalized for this. Just bandaged up and sent home again.”

The creases on Evan’s face eased, and he nodded. “One of the guys I know had a similar wound. It hurt like hell, but he was fine.”

Bridgit worked quickly, adding in ointments, then bandaging up my arm with fresh swaddling. She added a layer of plastic at the end, taping it carefully to my skin. At last she stepped back, putting her hands on her hips in satisfaction. “All done. You go on up and put on some of my sweats and a shirt, and I’ll get a fire going in the fireplace.” She turned to Seamus. “And I think we could all use some whiskey.”

Jimmy’s face glowed. “That’s for sure! I’ll get the glasses!”

Sean swept me up in his arms. “Let’s get you into something warmer.”

Bridgit nudged her head. “There are clothes in the guest rooms upstairs. Go ahead and claim any one you want.”

Sean brought me up the stairs, turning in to the first door at the top. The room was done in navy blue, with a gorgeous oil painting of a serene autumnal lake hanging on one wall. He laid me on the bed, then turned to rummage through the dresser. He came up with a heavy, black sweatshirt and a matching pair of pants, as well as thick socks.

Evan stepped in through the door, closing it behind him. He put a finger to his lips, then pointed up at the ceiling.

My heart dropped, but I nodded. With the family’s penchant for bugging rooms, it could be dangerous to talk anywhere within the house. For all we knew, they used this cabin for meetings with their various bosses, and enjoyed getting a sneak preview of their opponents’ stances.

Evan came over to the bed, dropping to one knee beside it. He ran his hand along my face, his brow creased with worry. “You’re sure you’re all right, Kay?”

I nodded reassuringly. “My arm really does feel much better, now that it’s cleaned. Once I get some food into me, I’m sure everything will be all right.”

Evan looked up at Sean, and the strength in their gazes sent a flush of heat through me. They would see me through this. No matter what it took, they would keep me safe.

Sean reached his hand into his back pocket and drew out his cell phone. He silently pointed to the icon on the top row of the display. He had a flickering half-bar signal.

Evan nodded, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

I eased back against the pillow. If Sean had even a ghost of a signal, undoubtedly his contacts were, at this very moment, tracking our destination and planning how to get us out again. We just had to hold tight until the cavalry arrived. Sean and Evan would be ready for it. It would all be over soon.

Evan nodded at Sean, then turned and kissed me tenderly on the forehead. He stood and walked from the room, gently closing the door behind him.

We were alone.

I groaned, gazing into Sean’s eyes, and he drew me in, wrapping me hard in his arms. His fingers twined up into my hair as he held me. His voice was low and hoarse. “God, Kay, when I saw that bullet hit you …”

“I’m fine,” I soothed him. “Bridgit got me out to safety.” I drew back, looking him over. “But are you all right? It must have been like the storming of Normandy after we left.”

He gave a wry smile. “Something like that,” he murmured. “One of the Cubans jammed his rifle and began using it like a mace. Hit me hard in the thigh before I could take him down. I’ve got a lump the size of a mango, but it’ll heal.”

He slid his hand along my hair, and then stopped, his brow creasing in confusion. “Kay, you have shattered glass in your hair.”

I nodded. “Probably from when they shot out the back window of the car.”

He stilled, and then he brought me in harder against him, holding me close, his breath coming in deep draws. “God, Kay, I am so sorry. I am so sorry I got you involved in this whole mess. If I had lost you …”

I gave him a soft kiss on the neck. “I grew up with four wild brothers,” I reminded him. “I won’t run from trouble. I would have liked to see you try to keep me away.” My eyes drew to his, and his depths pulled me in. My voice went hoarse. “There’s no way in hell I could have stayed away from you.”

His breath stilled, his lips floated toward mine, and then with effort he turned his head, his fingers sliding down my hair again. “You’ve just been shot,” he murmured tightly, “and we should get you cleaned off. Get all this glass, and blood, and …”

His voice stopped. At last he looked down, gathering me up in his arms.

There was the noise of bright conversation easing up the steps as we crossed to the main bathroom. It was as beautifully done as the rest of the house. Moss green shower curtains, a full sized window overlooking the glistening forest, and an oil painting showed a stag and doe standing side by side in a clearing, him standing at alert as she nuzzled a patch of clover.

I moved to the mirror over the shell-shaped sink to take a look at myself – and winced. There were streaks of blood across my face, in some sort of primitive camouflage pattern. My elegant updo was half undone, curls tumbling in a riot, bits of glass adding random sparkles to the outfit. One shoulder was an elegant mastery of beadwork, while the other was a modern art creation of white bandage beneath plastic.

Sean stepped up behind me, his eyes glistening with pride. “My brave warrior,” he murmured. He put his fingers to my neck.

A tremor shone through me, filling me with a golden glow.

A hint of a smile danced at the edge of his mouth. “None of that,” he cautioned. “We shouldn’t get your heart rate up.”

“You might always be the Champagne cork,” I countered, twining my fingers into his. “However, I can be the slow, gentle bubbling of a pot of hot cocoa, rising, frothing, until I ease over the edges.” The corners of my mouth turned up. “That might not be
too
tough on this shoulder of mine.”

His lips pressed gently against my neck. “Your brother would kill me.”

My eyes sparkled in the mirror. “Oh, so now you’re afraid of my brother?”

His teeth flashed in a smile. “I think I could take him, if you were at stake.”

I arched back against him, and he groaned. My voice was a soft purr. “His game is rugby,” I warned in a tease. “Just wait until Thanksgiving. You’ll see he can play rough.”

His hand went to my zipper, and he began slowly, languorously lowering it down my back. His voice whispered in my ear. “Oh, I can handle myself. Just you wait and see.”

I could feel every movement of the metal releasing its tight caress of me, inch by inch, along my lower back, then against the curve of my rear. Then his hands were up on my shoulders, sliding the silky fabric down my arms, along my waist, down my thighs, to pool at my ankles.

He looked at me for a long moment, drinking me in, and then he turned for a moment, twisting on the shower. The room filled with the noise of the hot water pounding on the smooth surface of the tub.

His hand went to my bra, he groaned, and stopped. “God, Kay, I want you. I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.”

I grinned at him, sliding my hands under his tuxedo jacket, along the tantalizing smoothness of the white shirt which encased his rippling muscles. “Then let’s get you out of these gorgeous clothes.”

He let me slide the jacket back over his shoulders, pulling one arm free, then the other. He let the jacket drop to one side. His voice was hoarse. “Kay, I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

I moved a hand to the burgundy tie, still in place after all we’d been through. “Then we’ll have to release that cork of yours in some other way,” I teased. “Just for now. In deference to your concern over my scratch on my shoulder.”

He groaned as I slid the tie free, trailing it along the side of his neck. “Kay, you’ve been
shot
.”

I began slowly undoing his ebony buttons, one by one, my fingers lingering against his skin as I moved. “And what is that pucker of skin near your hip?”

He wound his hand into my hair, his breathing coming more quickly. “That was different, Kay. I know what I’m getting myself into.”

I reached the amazing stretch of body which was his abdomen, and I traced the rippled muscles, soaking in their strength. “And so do I,” I murmured, pulling his shirt free from his waistband. “I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”  I tugged on the fabric, easing it from his shoulders, and in a moment it joined the jacket on the floor.

He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone as I worked on the buckle. He set it on a glass shelf suspended from the wall, pushed a button, and the haunting intro guitar notes from The Beatles’s
Something
drifted out from it.

I smiled as I eased his pants down along his muscular thighs, past the tight calves. He stepped out of them, then his socks. His briefs were pressed out with his pulsing need for me.

Somewhere in her smile she knows

That I don’t need no other lover

I took his hand, gently pulling him through the thickening steam into the shower. “We’ll just leave our undergarments on for protection,” I teased him. “Keep you safe from actually …” I drew my head close to his as we stepped into the pulsing stream of water. “… from pounding me … hard … repeatedly … against the sturdy tile wall of this tub …”

He groaned, and he half turned me, half pressed against me before reining himself in. His voice was tight with desire. “You have bewitched me, Kay.”

I turned to face the front of the shower, facing my forehead into the stream, soaking in the warmth and massage of the spray. I braced my hands against the wall before us. “Then tend to me,” I murmured. “Make me shine.”

His groan was deeper, and there was a pause before he reached over to the shampoo, took a dollop in his hand, and began slowly, gently caressing my scalp. It was the most amazing sensation I’d ever felt. He moved over every inch, his body firm against mine, his fingers seeking out the glass, untwining the knots, releasing me from the stress and chaos of the past few days. My hair became loose, free, falling in cascades down my back.

He reached past me for a washcloth, then put some liquid soap on it. He slid a hand along my good shoulder, and his fingers tremored. “God, Kay, you are so beautiful.”

I arched my rear, still clad in panties, back against him. “You’re restraining yourself,” I teased.

His groan was a  half-cry, and the washcloth followed the path of his fingers, the creamy roughness of the fabric activating my skin like a powerful switch. The soft, sensual feel of his body, the counterpoint of the ridged material, and I was lucky I was holding myself up with my hands. My nipples hardened, pressing out against the wet bra, and I craved that washcloth, that rough fabric, against their tips. One hand left the wall, to go back toward my clasp –

He gave a playful swat to my hand, his voice low in my ear. “Nuh-uh,” he warned. “You’re injured, remember? I’ll just have to please myself on my own.”

He pressed his hips forward, sliding the hardness of his shaft along the crease in my ass, and I shuddered with pleasure. Even through two layers of fabric, I could feel the hard knob, feel the slickness as the water and shampoo and soap shimmered between us.

And all I have to do is think of her

His fingers slid up with the soapy washcloth, tracing just along the lower edge of my bra, the index finger slipping within the fabric, and I groaned. His cock pressed more firmly against me, sliding, and his hand wrapped around my waist, giving him more traction against me. His other hand came alongside mine on the wall, and his mouth was at my neck.

His voice was a guttural rasp in my ear. “I think of you, Kay. I think of you every second, you’re within me, you’re a part of me, and you are … you are … God, Kay …” His body slid hard against me, urgent, fast, and then he was shuddering, gasping, his heart pounding in a way I could viscerally feel. The water streamed, steamed, and it was a long minute before he eased against me, before his breathing returned to a more normal level.

He pressed a long, tender kiss against my neck, running his fingers in a caress along my side. “I would do anything for you, Kay.”

I turned in his embrace, looking up into his moss-green eyes. My mouth curved into a smile. “Anything?”

His gaze swirled with passion, and with effort he drew in a breath. “Kay, it’s for your own good. That wound might not be life threatening, but it’s still a hole in your body. You want to let the scabbing start to take hold.”

I reached behind me, undoing the clasp of my bra, giving my shoulders a shake so the good shoulder’s strap slid free. The other side was hooked on the bandage, and I had to move my fingers up there to get it loose. “I’m the slow simmer,” I pointed out.