Sworn to Protect (18 page)

“Me, too. Shane?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” He held her so that she could heave if she needed to, but she didn’t throw up. Thanking heaven for small favors, he was also glad when the ambulance showed up. He didn’t know anyone on this crew, but that didn’t matter.

Tommy knew some of them and they greeted him before making Shane move aside so they could work. He hovered like an angry grizzly, doing his best to remain calm as they checked her vitals and started an IV.

“We think it’s best to take Miss Callahan to the hospital to get that head wound checked out,” one of the paramedics said. “I suspect she’s got a mild concussion, what with the dizziness and nausea.”

Shane nodded. “Can I ride with her?”

“Sure. Let us load her first, and then you can climb in back.”

While they got her ready, Tommy spoke up. “We’ll follow you to the hospital.”

“No. I appreciate that, but I think it’s best to get Shea home.” He held up a hand at her protest. “I know you want to be there, but it’s bound to be a while before we’re done. You can help me the most by letting Drew spend the night, if that’s all right. He won’t sneak out again.”

“Sure, no problem. I know he won’t. I’d hog-tie him if he tried. How will you two get home?”

“I’ll call a cab and take her to my house. Chances are she’s going to need someone to watch her because of the concussion.”

“Okay. But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

“I promise.”

Shane could tell they didn’t want to leave, but there wasn’t anything they could do. They also understood he needed their help with Drew more.

The ambulance was ready to roll, and he climbed aboard, taking Daisy’s hand.

He studied her pale face, blood smeared on her creamy skin and in her shiny blond hair. It frightened him to think what could’ve happened to her if he and Tommy hadn’t showed up. That bastard could’ve killed her, and then Shane would be the one headed to jail.

Never again. He absolutely could not let her out of his sight.

And if she had a problem with that? Tough shit.

The ride to the hospital was a weird kaleidoscope of sounds and images.

In the back of her fuzzed mind, Daisy knew her attacker must’ve hit her pretty damned hard with that beer bottle. She got that she was on the way to the hospital and there were paramedics talking to her. But not much else made sense.

Except Shane. Somehow he was there, and she’d never been more relieved to have him at her side. Even though she couldn’t process most of what he was saying, his presence was a soothing balm. He clung tight and kept saying something about never again. Whatever that meant.

He had to let go when they arrived, and she didn’t like that. They whisked her off to a white room that was so bright it hurt her eyes, so they turned the lights down some. Then she was transferred onto a traylike bed thing and shoved into a tube that started to whirr and make strange knocking noises. She didn’t like that either.

A CAT scan. She remembered that and shuddered, hoping she never had another one. The scanner around her head was kind of scary. When she was all done, they put her back on a rolling bed and moved her down the hallway again. The motion made her sick, so she closed her eyes.

Then she was in the ER, in a cubicle, and Shane was waiting. He had blood all over his shirt, and she frowned, trying to reason out why, then realized it was from her head. He’d been holding her on the ground. If she could recall that, maybe she wasn’t so bad off. Now if her brain would quit spinning.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

“Not so good. Hurts.”

“I know.” Taking her hand, he sat beside her bed as the nurse fiddled with her IV and checked her vitals. “I paid him back for you, though. And his ass got arrested.”

“Good,” she murmured with a faint smile. “You rescued me.”

“I wouldn’t have needed to if you two hadn’t gone to that stupid club to begin with. Do you have any idea how much worse—”

“You’re making my head hurt more,” she whimpered.

“Sorry.” Contrite, he bent and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll save the lecture.”

“Thanks.”

“You still have glass in your hair. You’re filthy.”

“He’ll have sore balls tomorrow.”

He laughed softly. “Good. They’ll go fine with his broken nose.”

She was savagely glad about that. “Sleepy.” She yawned.

“I don’t think you should go to sleep yet, sugar. Stay awake for me, okay?” His handsome, worried face hovered above hers.

But try as she might, her lids wouldn’t stay open.

The next time she awoke, she blinked, trying to figure out where she was. The space around her looked different, and she realized she’d been put into a regular room. She didn’t recall leaving the ER, and hated that she’d apparently lost a few hours.

The room was almost dark, except for a dim light on near the door. In the shadow, she could make out Shane beside her bed, asleep in a fold-out visitor’s chair. The fact that he’d stayed touched a spot in her soul. He looked young and vulnerable and tired, with dark smudges under his eyes, his tall body sprawled uncomfortably in the horrible chair.

Someone must’ve brought him a clean T-shirt, because this one was free of the bloodstains she remembered. She didn’t see a clock, so she couldn’t tell how long she’d been here, but it must’ve been the middle of the night.

Lying there, she simply observed him for a while. He was so beautiful. He had a good heart, even if he’d run from a relationship the first time. And he’d begged for another chance. He’d rescued her and hadn’t left her side. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

Didn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

Soon her brain couldn’t cope with the drama anymore. The uncertainty. So she gave in to sleep, her heart a lot lighter than it had been in months.

•   •   •

The next time she woke, sunlight was streaming through the cracks in the blinds. Her brain was still a little sluggish, but the confused fog seemed to have lifted. The side of her head hurt a bit and there was a strange tug at her temple, though. Reaching up, she found a bandage and worried it with her fingers.

“Hey, don’t mess with that, sugar.”

Shane captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I can form a coherent thought now.” She studied him. “You didn’t have to stay here all night.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He kissed her forehead. “You can’t get rid of me, either, so don’t think about trying.”

She smiled, or tried. “I wasn’t going to. But you do look like you could use a shower and your bed.”

“I’m planning to do that as soon as they release you.”

“Which will be when?”

“This morning. The CAT scan came back fine, but the doctor kept you overnight for observation. When you get your walking papers, I’m taking you home with me.”

“Oh, there’s no need—”

“I wasn’t asking,” he said firmly. “You obviously need a keeper, and I’m the man for the job.”

“I do not need a keeper, and we were having a perfectly nice time until that jerk and his buddies had a few too many and got obnoxious.” He smirked and she blinked at him. “What?”

“You said you had a
nice
time. Not great, fantastic, or incredible, but
nice
. That’s the kiss of death word for all things social.”

She wanted to be annoyed with him but couldn’t work up the effort. Besides, he was right. “It was something to do on a Saturday night besides stay home.”
And pine over you.

“Last Saturday night was much more fun, as I recall.”

“Until a certain teenager went joyriding and got arrested for vandalism.”

“We both know that’s not the reason you pulled away.” His thumb brushed the back of her hand. “I think us getting close again was too much reality for you. The question is, do you still feel that way?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

“Are you still willing to take it one day at a time with me, or was that canceled out because you
thought
I was going to do something wrong?”

She hadn’t been fair to him. “I want to be with you. I just got scared. I ran.”

His sexy mouth quirked up. “You’ll fight a man twice your size who’s drunk and wielding a beer bottle as a weapon and not bat a pretty eyelash, but the idea of being with me scares you?”

“He only hurt my head,” she said softly. “If you break my heart, the recovery time is a hell of a lot longer.”

His gaze warmed. “Then I guess you have to ask yourself if we’re worth the risk. But don’t say anything now. Come home with me and let me take care of you. Let me show you how serious I am about making us work.”

Looking into his face, so hopeful, she didn’t have it in her to refuse. “Okay.”

His smile transformed his face and erased the shadows. “Fantastic. Now we need to get you sprung, head home, and get some real rest.”

“Sounds great.”

Two hours later, Daisy was being wheeled out to a cab waiting at the curb. If she’d had any idea that last night would turn out the way it did, she never would’ve gone. But, then again, her mishap had brought Shane to her side, fussing and fretting over her every second. It was kind of awesome.

He held her hand in the cab, and when they arrived at his place, helped her up the porch steps as if she’d received major trauma instead of a mild concussion. He settled her on the sofa with a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Would you like something to drink? Do you have a headache?”

“Just a slight one, not bad enough for a painkiller. But I wouldn’t mind some juice or something.”

He plumped the pillows around her head. “All I have is orange juice, and that might not settle on your stomach right now. How about Sprite?”

“Okay.”

He hurried away, and in moments he was back with a cold can that sported a straw sticking out of it. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She sipped her soda, watching as he turned on the TV to a news channel, volume low.

“Is this okay? Too loud?”

“It’s fine. Sit down before you make my headache come back.”

Giving her a sheepish grin, he situated himself on the sofa next to her, then tucked her under his arm, against his chest. Snuggling in, she curled up on her good side to avoid pressing on the stitches.

“I need a shower,” she said.

“I’ll help you take a bath later. You can’t get your stitches wet.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll get your keys and run by your place this afternoon, grab you some clothes to stay a couple of days. We’re both taking off work until I’m sure you’re better.”

“Oh, we are, are we?” She tried to sound annoyed at his high-handedness, but couldn’t.

“Yes. No arguments from you.”

“I’m assuming I’ll stay in the guest room?”

“For now.” His voice was laced with regret. “For Drew’s benefit. According to him, his dad wasn’t exactly discreet about the parade of women who stayed at their house, and I don’t want him thinking that sort of behavior is to be expected from me as well. Even though what you and I have—what I
want
us to have—in no way resembles Brad’s antics, it’s just . . .”

“I know. You want to set a good example for him.” She hugged him tight. “I think that’s very admirable.”

“I’m glad you think so, but it’s damned hard—in more ways than one.” His teasing tone was tinged with wry humor.

Daisy peeked at his lap and saw the hard ridge pressing against his zipper. “I can help you with that, big guy.”

“No,” he said ruefully. “I don’t think moving around that much would be good for your recovery.”

“I don’t have to move much to do this.”

Still leaning against him, she went to work on the button and zipper of his jeans. Then she pulled the material apart and smiled at his boxers. “SpongeBob?”

“Hey, I’m channeling my inner fun side.” Grabbing his waistband, he worked them and the jeans down past his hips, and his erection poked at his belly. “And they were on sale.”

“Hmm.”

Grasping his cock, she pumped slowly, loving the feel of his velvety length. His moans sent a thrill of satisfaction through her that she could reduce him to a mass of quivering need with nothing more than a simple touch.

His head hit the back of the sofa and his lips parted in bliss as she stroked him. Up and down, his hips following her motion, seeking more. Using her thumb, she smeared droplets of pre-cum over the purple head, then stroked down to his balls, squeezing the sac, and up again. Faster and faster she jerked him until he groaned, stiffening impossibly hard in her hand, and shot ropes of creamy white over her fingers.

“God, I needed that.” He blew out a breath, and looked at her. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. I wanted to make you feel good.”

“You always do that, sugar.” He kissed her deeply, then stroked her cheek. “Tired?”

“Some.”

“Would you like me to help you get cleaned up now?”

“That would be great.”

After hitching up his jeans and boxers, he led her to the master bathroom and ran a nice hot bath for her as she undressed. Then he helped her into the tub and knelt beside it.

“I can bathe myself,” she said. “I’m not an invalid.”

“I know that, but humor me. I enjoy taking care of you. Besides, you can’t get your stitches wet.”

With a sigh, she gave herself to his tender care, and she had to admit he was very good at it. His hands were gentle as he soaped her skin, cleaning her abraded palms and kissing bruises she hadn’t even realized she’d obtained in the struggle with Len. Then he supported her head as she leaned back, and got her hair wet before soaping the tresses, too.

“I love your hair,” he murmured. “It’s like spun sunlight.”

“Thank you. I come from a family of natural blondes, and I used to spend a lot of time wishing it was a more interesting color,” she mused.

“I know several women who would hate you for saying that.” His lips turned up.

“By high school, I learned not to. When I got older, I finally started to appreciate being different.”

“Are we still talking about hair? Lean back.” He began to rinse carefully, avoiding her head injury.

“I suppose not.” After he was finished rinsing, she sat up. “I was always a tomboy, and I hated girly girls. I wasn’t delicate and I didn’t want to pretend to be. I was happy climbing trees, jumping creeks on our bikes, catching frogs.”

“Playing cops and robbers?”

She smiled. “Yeah. And I never stopped.”

“I think you turned out just the way you were supposed to.”

“I can’t imagine it’s any parent’s dream for his or her daughter to be a police officer. Well, it certainly wasn’t for my dad at first. I told you some about my relationship with him when we worked that last case together. He’s proud of me now, in his way.”

“What did he want you to be?”

“A teacher, or some ‘normal’ career for a woman to enter. Sexist, but safe in his view.”

“My dad wanted me to be a businessman like him one day.” He gave a laugh. “I couldn’t imagine anything more horrible than wheeling and dealing, always crunching numbers or marketing the newest ideas. Might as well shoot me.”