To ease her mind, Carter told her, “Sean will take care of them. You don’t have to worry.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but to lose your husband, your dad in such a horrible way…”
She trailed off.
Carter and Brea said nothing. Brutal deaths by rival shifters was an actuality they faced every day. Didn’t make it any less ugly, but on some level every person that entered this conflict on one side or the other had to prepare themselves that this could be their end, as well.
“If you hear anything else, send word,” Carter told Brea. “And tell James I said to keep me in the loop. I want to be on top of this one. Especially since the police are involved.”
“The police have been involved,” Brea reminded him.
“I am fully aware,” he told her dryly. “However, we’ve been pretty successful at squashing stories and recovering bodies so far. Sounds like the police have Ricky’s body, from what you’re saying. That’s going to open a whole extra level of investigation. We don’t need anything traced back to us. I want to be on top of everything.”
“I’ll tell James,” Brea promised, then switched back to Ellie.
“Anything else I can do for you, Miss St. James?”
“My name’s Ellie. You don’t have to call me that,” Ellie offered. “And, no, thank you. I can’t think of anything else. Thank you for bringing me all this. Please thank Mrs. Costas for me. I appreciate her hospitality.”
“Any friend of Carter’s…”
Except Ellie was technically more—and less—than a friend, Carter thought. Her exact standing was a bit difficult for folks around here to determine, including himself. Someone who needed protection? A member of the family, by virtue of her having saved Jackson Costas? His wife, who was also not his wife?
No need to open that can of worms.
Brea went out, leaving the two of them alone.
Ellie sat there a minute in silence, her face clouded, before finally rising with a sigh.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“You haven’t eaten yet,” Carter reminded her.
“I’ll make it quick. Probably be out before breakfast gets here.”
She caught his derisive chuckle and stopped.
“What?”
“Never heard of a woman taking a shower that quickly.”
Kneeling in front of the suitcase Brea had brought, Ellie said, “Well, you haven’t met me then, I guess. I don’t usually take too long in the shower. Especially after the Nakki attack in yours.”
He didn’t blame her. That had been ugly.
She went into the bathroom, closing the door. Carter picked up the television remote, switched on the flat screen, and flicked channels, looking for something to occupy his mind until food arrived or Ellie emerged. Whichever came first. As it turned out, a knock at the door several minutes later signaled breakfast mere seconds before Ellie exited the bathroom, dressed in clean jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt, her hair wrapped up in a towel.
“That smells wonderful,” she said, standing next to the bed, watching the meal being pushed into the room on a rolling cart.
It did. Carter thanked Rosa for bringing it up. When she left, he turned his focus back to Ellie, who, despite studying the food, noticed his dry grin.
“What?” she demanded.
“It’s just, with your hair like that, you look like you did the first time we spent the night together.”
She gave him a wary look.
“We never spent the night together. Not in that sense.”
“We were in the same hotel room, all night long. That’s spending the night together.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what people usually mean when they say they spent the night together.”
“Maybe you have a dirty mind.”
“Pfff. Yeah, I’m the one with the dirty mind. Hey, do you have a blow dryer?”
This time, he did laugh.
“Sure, Ellie. I really need a blow dryer.”
This time, even she laughed.
“Well, I just thought I’d ask! I know you don’t need it.”
“I don’t, but I can get you one.”
He started to lean over and pick up the phone, but she stopped him.
“Never mind. I’ll find someone and ask,” she said, freeing her hair from the towel and dropping it in a nearby chair. “You go ahead and eat.”
“You sure?”
“No need to wait on me and let your food get cold.”
She pushed the cart right up by his side of the bed and, without asking, proceeded to fill his plate, fetch his utensils, and pour him coffee. She settled it all on a tray across his lap, along with a napkin. It was a little strange, being waited on hand and foot by her, but Carter figured it was her nurse’s training kicking in, trying to keep his twisting and bending to a minimum while he healed.
“Do you need anything else?” she inquired, straightening.
“No, I’m good. Thank you, Ellie.”
She flashed him a quick smile. “You’re welcome. Be right back.”
She turned to leave, but on a sudden impulse he reached out and snagged her hand. When she pivoted back, puzzled, he said, “I mean it. Thank you, Ellie. For everything,” then lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm.
He was only holding her hand, but Carter felt her stiffen at the brush of his lips on her skin. Her cheeks flushed and she pulled her hand away, embarrassed.
“You’re welcome, Carter. It’s not that big a deal. Just doing for you what you did for me.”
She fled before he had a chance to protest. To say it actually was a big deal. It was his job to protect her. Her protecting him? That was voluntary on her part. And, despite himself, it wasn’t something he’d quickly forget. If ever.
Chapter Fourteen
Nervous, I ran out of Carter’s room so fast I may have left a trail of smoke in my wake. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much of one. The sincerity in Carter’s eyes when he’d thanked me wasn’t something I was used to receiving from him. Since we’d met, he’d been caustic, moody, and sometimes bitter, with a sense of humor that made him say outrageous things to get my goat. It usually worked, too.
The turnaround to this man who told me thank you like he meant it, who looked at me like he saw something special in me, was a complete about-face. More than that, the hint in his dark eyes of something warm and intense was more than I was equipped to handle. It reminded me of the one time he’d kissed me, at our brief wedding ceremony. Where I hadn’t been able to discern why he’d kissed me the way he had. It certainly hadn’t been a quick peck. There had been meaning in the press of his mouth against mine, a meaning I hadn’t been able to decipher then and still couldn’t. A meaning I’d re-experienced during the kiss on my palm. Again, if he’d wanted to thank me with a quick little kiss, that would’ve been one thing. However, it hadn’t been. It was a full on, firm kiss to my palm, with nothing polite about it. I’d felt the prickle of his whiskers from his beard. Could still feel them, in fact.
The memory of both kisses reverberated through my body, making me feel flushed and slightly uneasy as I hurried through corridors, desperately searching for someone, anyone. Not to find me a hair dryer, as I’d told Carter, but to distract me from a response to a man and a kiss that had sped up my heartrate much higher than it should have.