Page 43 of Legacy of Lies
Unfortunately, the action pushed her breasts up against the thin t-shirt fabric. It was clear she didn’t have a bra on, as the night air chilled her skin. Obviously. Good grief, he needed to help this woman, not ogle her enticing assets.
You could do both, his libido prompted him.
He kept his voice calm, despite the effect her sweet-scented, braless proximity had on him.
“Okay. I’m going to get this glass out. Let’s start there.” He laid his coat on an armchair and knelt at the end of the couch.
Resisting the need to trace the delicate arches of her feet, he gently grasped her toes, grimacing when she yelped. After positioning a towel over the pillow, he held her foot still as he flushed the area with water. There, the piece of glass protruded from the wound.
Without saying a word, he pinched the glass and snagged it out of her foot.
“Yowch! Hey, some warning!” She jumped back, but by then, he had the shard.
Holding up the blood-coated shard, he grinned. “Done.” He wrapped the towel around the ball of her foot. “Do you have some peroxide or alcohol?”
“Mother of Christ, no way you’re putting alcohol in there!” At least she had firm control of her faculties now, as the stubborn lift to her chin attested. She rubbed her cheeks, then pointed. “Bathroom around the corner, first aid stuff under the sink.”
He took the opportunity to check the rest of the house for anything else out of place. A quick glance in her lace-trimmed bedroom and her closet reassured him that no one else hid in the house. The bedroom smelled like flowers, like Sara, and he inhaled.
Which is to say, he’d lost his mind.
Returning with supplies, he washed out the wound once more and dressed it with gauze and an elastic bandage.
“You might need stitches.”
“It’s fine.” Swinging her legs off the couch and onto the floor, she winced. Her expression, clear but guarded, held him in place. “Thank you. But—”
Butsalways nailed him like a kick to the groin.
“Yeah, I know, you need me to leave. Got it. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” He ignored her raised hand. “Can I at least help you clean up the floors and the kitchen?”
She hobbled to the kitchen. At her sharp intake of air, he grabbed her upper arm, worried that she would faint again.
Beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, glass sparkled all over the floor. She trembled beneath his hand.
“You okay?”
“It’s just ... a mess. And the window.” Even though her lower lip quivered, her eyes narrowed and she straightened her shoulders. Trying to be strong.
All of a sudden, he needed something to occupy his hands. “Broom?”
After retrieving it from the closet she indicated, he had the floor cleared in no time. Taking care to remove the pieces of glass, he wiped down the counter, table, and chairs.
“What’s this?” she asked. The rock he’d found swung from the chain.
“Not sure. You have any idea who might have done this?”
She set the stone down on the kitchen table and made a show of straightening up the counter items. “No. Maybe.”
“Sara.” He grasped her arm, and she flinched. “Has someone hurt you?”
“No, not—”
Son of a bitch, she was lying, wasn’t she? It took everything in him not to dig into her mind and get to the truth. But no. Fucking ethics and all, even when he knew where that had gotten him so far in life.
The problem with his power? He had to intentionally activate it. He had to make the effort to invade someone’s mind. Tonight, that wasn’t happening. Not with Sara.
The blood drained into his feet. “Yet?”
