turned then, stepping into her space, his body vibrating and his eyes ablaze. “Try it.”
Chapter Nine
Wolfe kept his stance wide as Dana’s pupils widened and then contracted. Her curvy body settled in for a fight.
“Wolfe?” Mal said mildly, slumped in the chair, blood matting his left eyebrow. “You’re being an asshole.”
“I’m aware of that fact,” Wolfe returned, unable to move away from Dana. An invisible force kept him in place, his muscles tight, his chest heated. He didn’t like himself at the moment, and that regret could later join his constant guilt when he regained control. The fact that he’d gotten Mal shot was yet more proof that everyone around him was in danger, and that definitely included the angry journalist trying to stare him down.
Her nostrils widened and she reached for the bottom of his T-shirt, her gaze daring.
He began to step back, and she tightened her hold, the soft pads of her fingers brushing his bare abs. A jolt shot through him, and he may have growled.
She sucked in air and her delicate jaw tightened. She yanked him toward her with the cotton and pulled it up, giving him no choice but to duck his head so she didn’t choke him. Oh, the stubborn woman was asking for it. What, he had no clue—but everything in him wanted to give it to her.
The shirt came over his head, and then she gentled her movements, making a sound of distress as his wound was revealed.
The soft noise pummeled straight to his heart and he shut his eyes against an unwanted wave of warmth. As soon as he made sure she was safe, he had to distance himself. Completely, even though she was a good friend. Temptation was a killer.
Then she held a towel to his arm. Pain centered him, and he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to survey the wound. “The bullet cut along my bicep but didn’t go in.”
“You need stitches.” She gulped and then looked up. Her eyes were the color of a spring meadow against her suddenly pale skin. She wavered.
He grasped her arm just as Mal kicked out the adjacent chair, and then he settled her down. “You’re okay.” Sometimes he forgot that not everyone was accustomed to blood and bruises. “Honest. I’m fine.” After making sure she was steady in the chair, he glanced down at his arm, which ached but wasn’t that bad. “A couple of stitches should do it.” He didn’t even need Mal’s help with that. “First, are you sure you don’t want to go to the doc, West?”
Mal nodded. “Just stitch me up, slap a bandage on me, and I’ll tell Pippa it’s no big deal.”
Oh. He was worried about frightening Pippa. Of course. “Stitches are stitches, so what’s the problem?” Why not have a doctor do it?
Mal swallowed and the blood on his throat cracked. “There’s a difference between having to go to the hospital and just having you bandage it. She won’t worry this way.”
Man, Wolfe really didn’t understand women. “You’re messing with your pretty looks,” he warned.
“What’s one more scar on my face?” Mal sighed, his torso too wide for the quaint kitchen chair that had come with the house.
Wasn’t that the truth? Wolfe rolled his shoulders and tried to focus, when all he wanted to do was go for a long, hard run. He hadn’t given Pippa a thought when he’d reluctantly agreed to let Malcolm provide backup, and look what had happened. Steadying his hands, he reached for the stitching kit he’d put together in the first aid box, pausing to check on Dana’s color. Still pale. “You need to look the other way.”
She blinked, tried to argue, and then just turned to stare out the window.
Kat meowed and rubbed against Wolfe’s leg before jumping into Dana’s lap. Her smooth hands instantly started to pet him, and his purr filled the room.
As the kitten and the woman provided each other comfort, Wolfe painstakingly stitched up Mal’s skin on his forehead, trying to keep the ends as even as possible. Maybe the scar would be very small or even fade completely. His friend shut his eyes and breathed normally, his body relaxed the entire time. Finally, Wolfe spread antibacterial gel across the stitches and gingerly planted a bandage in place. “I did my best.” He stood back and made sure the bandage was even.
Mal stood, almost eye to eye with him. “I’m sure it’s perfect. Now let me stitch you—” He paused, swiveling back toward the sliding glass door.
A light footstep on his patio caught Wolfe’s attention. “Pippa’s coming.” He glanced at the bloody towels. “Go, now. I’ll take care of the mess.”
Mal paused for a second and then nodded, already moving to the door. “If you need me to stitch you up—”
“I don’t,” Wolfe interrupted. “A couple of stitches is nothing new.” Unfortunately, true words.
“Copy that.” Mal slipped outside, heading off Pippa, their voices quiet as they returned to their house. Wolfe shuddered. What had he been thinking to take Malcolm to that area of town?
“It wasn’t your fault,” Dana said, once again looking his way.
Sometimes he thought she could read minds. Nobody had ever seen him so clearly before, and that wasn’t a good thing. Her words were so blatantly wrong that Wolfe didn’t bother replying. Instead, he took Mal’s vacated seat and reached for another clean needle.
Dana audibly swallowed. “I can do that if you want.”
The woman would probably pass out. “That’s okay. Not my first time.” He took a lot less care with his skin than he had Mal’s, then slapped on a bandage and faced Dana. “The men in the truck were after you, not me, and I think you should lie low until we figure out why.” Risking her wasn’t an option.
She blinked. “You’re giving me orders? After being shot at—again?”
He stiffened, his skin prickling. The world was closing in and he was losing control. That could not happen. “Did you not hear me? They were after you.”
“Then I’m getting close.” Her chin rose. “That’s a good thing.”
He took his time exhaling, trying to manage his emotions. From the second those bullets had crashed through the glass, and he’d realized he’d put another one of his team into danger, he’d been on edge. “You don’t want to argue with me today, sweetheart.” He gave her the full truth.
She stood and gathered the bloody towels. “The heck I don’t. Bring it on, Wolfe.” Her exit was stalled by her phone going off on the table. She sighed, lifted it up, and declined the call.
Oh, he was too close to losing it. Way too close. “Who keeps calling that you’re ignoring?” Focusing on this problem, for a moment, gave him a needed reprieve from the shit show his life had just become. “Dana?” He didn’t like the irritation in her eyes.
“Nobody.” She turned again, and the phone went off again.
Smoothly, he snaked out a hand and grabbed the phone from her. He was being an ass, but at this point, he just didn’t care. He pressed the
