Page 7 of Stone
“Give me a second,” she replied.
He craned his head, setting his ear almost to the wood. A little of the tension left his body when he heard footsteps nearing the door, uneven though they were.
The lock turned, and he jerked back as she swung the door open. His training kicked in and in less than three seconds, he assessed the situation. Juliana appeared alone and unharmed. The house looked in order, tidy, not as if there’d been a struggle or fight. The only thing out of place was a sofa table. One end angled away from the back of the couch and, as he looked more closely, he noticed a silver bowl lying on its side on the floor.
Assured of no immediate danger, he returned his attention to Juliana. Her bright blue eyes, though beautiful, were creased around the edges, telling him something wasn’t quite right. Quickly, his gaze swept over her. Her long blond hair fell over her shoulders, curling at the ends just over her breasts. She wore a loose-fitted dark green spaghetti-strap tank top that he assumed contained a built-in bra. He really shouldn’t be noticing her breasts, but it was hard not to—they were spectacular.
Forcing his gaze downward, he continued his inspection over her jean-clad hips, down her gorgeous legs, and to her bare feet.
His heart stopped. Blood covered the first two toes on her left foot.
She had her heel to the ground and the ball of her foot off the floor. It didn’t take more than a heartbeat to figure out the chain of events. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t the end of the world. But blood anywhere on Juliana’s body was not something he could allow.
Without a thought, he stepped into the small foyer, swept her into his arms, kicked the door shut, and headed toward the couch.
She yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck for balance. “Put me down, Simon. You’re going to give yourself a hernia.”
He didn’t bother responding. Instead, he set her gently on the sofa, then perching on the coffee table, he lifted her foot onto his lap and began examining the damage.
“You were a little early and the knock startled me. I stubbed my toe,” she said. “Then the bowl fell off the table and landed on top of my foot,” she added, explaining what he’d seen.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
“It’s fine, Simon. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. Give me five minutes to clean it up, then I’ll be ready to go.”
His gaze caught hers. He’d never been one to opine about a person’s eyes before. Sure, he noticed when they were unusual or striking—like his MC brother Mantis and his moss-green ones—but beyond that, he could honestly say he’d never considered a person’s eyes before. Until Juliana.
The bright cornflower color alone drew a second glance, but the way they conveyed the swirl of her emotions held him. Right now, the tightness in the corners and the slight furrow between them reflected both pain and embarrassment. The pain he understood; the embarrassment, not so much.
“Let me clean it up. Do you have a first aid kit?” he asked again. The furrow deepened as her mood changed from self-conscious to confused.
He counted her breaths—one, two, three—before she answered. “Under the sink in the powder room,” she said, pointing down a short hallway.
He nodded and rose, then paused. “Don’t move,” he said, setting a staying hand on her uninjured toes. She quirked a brow at his order, the left side of her mouth twitching upward, but nodded.
Assured she’d stay off her foot, he found the powder room under the stairs and pulled out the well-stocked kit. On his way back to the living room, he took in the simple layout of the condo. The front room held the sofa, two chairs, a coffee table, and the fireplace. The stairs leading to the second floor anchored the east wall. The back half consisted of the kitchen and the dining area. Not a huge place, but a cozy one.
Colorful art and area rugs covered the stark white walls and carpet. Pictures of people he didn’t know lined both the mantel and the wall behind the dining table. And her dishes, visible in the open-face cabinets, reflected an eclectic and personal taste—some appeared to be handmade in the color of gemstones, others looked vintage from a diverse range of eras, including a set of bowls from the 1970s and four delicate teacups that he’d guess were over a hundred years old.
He grabbed a few paper towels from the kitchen and, after dampening them, added a folded dishcloth to his arsenal before returning to the coffee table. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She hesitated, then inclined her head. “After the first sting and shock, it fades.”
Draping the cloth over his thigh, he lifted her foot, placed it on top, then began dabbing at the blood with the dampened towels. She twitched and instinctively jerked her foot back whenhe touched the top of her big toe. With his other hand wrapped around her ankle, though, she didn’t move far.
“That’s the origin of the blood, isn’t it?” he asked, more to himself. He hadn’t been sure if she’d injured both toes or only one that had then bled onto the other.
“I can be a little klutzy,” she said.
He didn’t like the undercurrent of apology in her voice. “When I first moved into my new place, I was constantly catching a toe on some corner or another. Besides, you said I startled you.”
She remained silent as he finished cleaning. Once he’d wiped all the blood away, he wrapped a damp towel around her toe and reached for the first aid kit, intending to find antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid.
A sudden sharp rap on the door caused Juliana to jump again. He dropped the kit and grabbed her ankle to keep her balanced. He hadn’t thought it unusual for her to be startled by his arrival, but seeing her reaction now had his Spidey senses tingling. When her eyes widened and darted to the door, the hair on the back of his neck rose.
He squeezed her ankle. She dragged her gaze from the door to him. Raising a finger to his lips, he urged her to remain quiet. She hesitated, then nodded.
“Are you expecting anyone?” he mouthed. She shook her head, a series of sharp, rapid movements.
