For Her Protection. Lauren Giordano
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He hadn’t thought it possible for a woman her age to blush. “Try not to be nervous. It’ll hurt, but I swear I won’t make a sound,” he promised.
“Oh, God.”
Impulsively he grabbed one of her hands. “Look, if you hesitate—if you go slow—it’ll hurt worse. I want you to make a crisscross cut over the hole about this big.” He drew on her palm while she listened intently, hanging on every word, and he felt a measure of her tension dissipate.
“It was a small-caliber bullet and it was shot from a pretty far distance. It can’t be in there very far…maybe an inch. Once you make the cut, I want you to take the edge of the blade and probe in there like this.” He pointed the blade down and gently touched her palm, careful not to press too deep. “The sooner you find it, the better.”
“What then? When I find it, I mean?”
She blanched again and her eyes carried a hunted look, as though she knew there was no way to escape. “As soon as you feel it, try to get the blade underneath and lever it out that way. If not, we’ll use those evil-looking tweezers you’ve got there.”
She jerked her hand from his and raised it to her mouth. “Ohmigod, Luke—I don’t know if I can…”
He reached out and gently pried her fingers from her lips, giving them a little squeeze. “You can do this. I know it.” He waited while she composed herself once again, watching as she took a shaky breath. “You need to wash your hands really well and then I’m gonna lean way over the counter and you’re gonna go to work. Okay?”
She swallowed convulsively and shook her hands, as though shaking the jitters out of her fingers. “Right. I’m ready.”
Luke took a deep breath and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Sweet Jesus, could this be any more awkward? A beautiful woman was about to carve up his butt in the shabby little bathroom of Jethro’s Rent-A-Shack. If the guys ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it.
He noticed that Jillian played it cool. She’d averted her eyes when he’d dropped his pants and bit her lip when he’d grunted and launched himself up onto the counter. At least he could keep his underwear on…what little was left of the blood-soaked cotton. He tried not to wince as she peeled them away from his right buttock. Once she was finished, he’d cut them off and burn them in the sink. Unfortunately he’d be forced to go commando for a day or so until it was safe to buy underwear.
“How’s it look back there?”
She stifled a chuckle. “How exactly do you mean? It’s a rather fine-looking butt, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
Could this get any more embarrassing? He shook his head and tried not to watch her in the mirror. “What I mean is, how does the bullet hole look?”
“Don’t clench up. I’m just cleaning the area with alcohol.”
Right. She pours something freezing on his ass and she doesn’t want him to react? “Well?”
Jillian raised her gaze to meet his in the mirror. “It looks…angry.”
“Angry? What the he—” He took a deep breath, blew it out, and tried to remember that she was very nervous. “What does ‘angry’ mean?”
“It looks red and very tender and much smaller than I thought it would be, actually.”
“I’m lucky the shooter was so far away. Otherwise, you’d see a whole lot more damage back there.”
“You saw the person who shot you?”
He cocked one eyebrow. “He shot me in the ass, remember?” Her disgruntled sigh was clearly audible. Mary Poppins didn’t have much of a sense of humor. If anyone should be pissed about this turn of events, it should be him.
“I’m not a ninny. I meant, how do you know where the person was shooting from?”
Her voice floated up from down near the floor. “The building was caving in…I was running away from it…I just know.” In spite of himself, he tensed when she made the first incision. The area was throbbing so badly that it was almost a relief when she made the cut. He heard her take a deep breath before making the cross incision.
“Lord, it’s really bleeding now.”
Luke gritted his teeth and fought to school the pain. He tasted the sweat beading on his upper lip and experienced the faint, floaty feeling that came with shock. He tightened the muscles in his chest and arms as a countermeasure to the excruciating pain. If he focused on contracting those muscles, he could disassociate from the torture that was sure to come.
“Just swipe it and keep going. It’s gonna keep bleeding until you’re done.”
Jillian took a shaky breath at the pain she heard in his voice. Dear God, if she could only run away. She fought to keep her hands from trembling while sweat trickled down her back and into her jeans. He flinched when she slid the knife in like he’d shown her. She dug in again and heard him bite back a moan. Lord, she was hurting him badly.
On the third try, she felt rather than saw the bullet. She’d found it. Now, to get the blasted thing out. She said a quick prayer to her Maker. If only He’d get the bullet out…she’d never ask for another thing. Just this one favor. Please, Lord.
Unfortunately, He must have been working miracles elsewhere because she came up empty-handed.
“You’re stopping?”
She startled at the sound of his voice and paused to stretch the cramped muscles in her back and legs. They were locked with tension. She made the mistake of glancing into the mirror. Dear Lord, his face was gray with agony. “No. I’m…I was…I needed a minute. I’ll try again.”
She would have bent immediately had he not grabbed her arm. She noticed then how large his hand was. His fingers gripped her entire forearm with relative ease as he tugged her up to his face.
“You’re doing fine. Don’t worry about me. It’ll be over soon. Just keep goin’.”
She blinked back tears as his magnetic eyes willed her to be calm. She took a deep breath and nodded. Luke was still in control. She could be, too. She could do this.
“Right.” She squatted again and said another prayer. This time she managed to get his knife under the bullet. She felt the tug of resistance as the bullet rebelled against the blade. This ordeal could be over if she didn’t panic. Her gaze still locked on the bullet hole, she reached up with her free hand and groped the countertop. She heard supplies scatter as her fingers wrapped around the tweezers and pulled them down. With one hand lifting the knife blade, she poked through the blood and dug the tweezers into the wound to grab the bullet.
Jillian felt his whole body jerk and then tighten and heard his stifled groan. Ignoring his pain, she blocked it out and concentrated on the sound of running water. Dammit, she had to finish this before she passed out. Or killed him. At last, the tweezers found the bullet. Not daring to release her sweaty grip, she yanked the metal slug out.
It was over.
“I’ve found the bloody thing.” She sagged to the floor, her thigh muscles screaming when they finally unclenched. Nearly light-headed with relief, she waited several seconds before staggering to her feet, her legs still rubbery when she tried to stand.
“Please tell me you got it.” His voice was tight with pain.
She loosened her grip on the tweezers and the bullet clanged on the Formica counter. “I’ve got to clean you up…down there. Then we’re through.”
“Thank God.”
It seemed like forever before the bleeding stopped. When it had slowed to a trickle, she swabbed the area again with alcohol, starting at Luke’s sudden indrawn breath. “Sorry about that. I should have warned you.”
When he didn’t respond, she made a makeshift bandage and taped