Margo opened her eyes and glanced around the room. The dark navy color complemented the lemon-yellow in a way she hadnt expected. Blending a feminine elegance with a masculine touch was perfect for a master bedroom.
It was nothing like what shed grown up with. Her life had been all about secondhand clothes and cramped space. Glancing at the door, making sure there was no one to witness her weakness, Margo ran her hand slowly over the richness of the expensive, fat navy-blue comforter.
Again she closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the supersoft fabric. Guilt followed quickly, and, feeling a bit ridiculous for enjoying the finer things in life, especially at a time like this, she quickly turned her thoughts to Blu. Eyes still closed, she whispered, Where are you? Did Brodie find you? Will you come for me tonight or in the morning?
The dark pier flashed in her minds eye. Margo heard the gunfire, and suddenly she could no longer hold back the tears. A man had died tonight. Blu was wounded and missing. She worried that his thigh injury was more serious than hed led her to believe, that the gunfire that had followed them into the water had hit its mark once more. Blu had abandoned her so quickly once theyd plunged into the water that she hadnt had a chance to
say anything to him. Shed heard a huge splash after hed pointed her in the direction of the Nightwing, then more rapid gunfire.
It was almost as if he had purposely attracted the gunmans attention to give her time to get away. God, if that was true, what had it cost him?
Margo had just finished wiping the evidence of her tears from her cheeks when Ry stepped back into the room carrying a bowl of steaming water, with a towel tossed over his bare shoulder. A threaded needle rode between his straight, white teeth. She glanced at the bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm and promptly asked, Are you going to get me drunk?
He placed the bowl of water next to the amber lamp on the nightstand, then set the bottle of whiskey and threaded needle next to it. You drunk and my fingers oiled. He eased his weight down on the bed beside her. Were going to have to get your shirt off. How do you want to do it?
Their intimate past made a mockery of his question. Yet the thought of losing her shirt, exposing herself to a man who had made a fool out of her two years ago, made Margo feel insecure in both her body and her intelligence.
Margo? Did you hear me?
I heard you, Ry, and I imagine one arm at a time makes the best sense. That is, unless you want to show me some new trick youve learned with your boot knife.
That smart mouth of yours is wearing thin, baby. It wouldnt take much to change my mind and make a phone call to Charity Hospital. Dont push me.
The hospital threat was sobering. Margo realized Ry was wearing his mood about as close to the cuff as she was. She clamped her mouth shut and reached for the first button on her ruined denim shirt. The movement cost her. A sharp pain shot down her injured arm, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. She forced the first button through its hole, but the second one, much to her disgust, turned stubborn. After the third try, Ry brushed her hand aside. Ill do it.
He unbuttoned the last three buttons quickly, his blunt-tipped fingers grazing her bare skin only briefly as he eased the fabric off her shoulder and down her injured arm. With gentle care he slid his free arm around her waist and drew her away from the headboard. As she rested against his solid chest, he whispered, Easy, now. Lets take this real slow.
His warm breath teased Margos ear, and suddenly all the pain and humiliation from the past came rushing back, along with an overwhelming amount of longing. She sucked in her breath at the same time a surge of poignant heat spread swiftly throughout her body. She knew it was normal to have some kind of reaction. After all, Ry had made her a woman, hed been her teacher, her mentorthe man she had let strip her bare in body and soul.
But shed also expected her anger would sustain her, that her pride would protect her. Now she realized it was too soon. Coming here, being this close to him, was the worst thing she could have done. It had been the mother of all dreadful mistakes, she realized, because as much as she wanted to deny it, the sudden desire she felt for this man was clearly branding her twice the fool. The feelings shed desperately prayed would die were very much alivea little tarnished and bruised, but still alive.
The rotten, disgusting truth was she was still vulnerablevulnerable to his good looks, his voice, the musky scent of his skin. Every damn thing she had tried so hard to hate.
It was such a shocklike the resurrection of an old ghostthat Margo tried to pull free, refusing to be tortured and humiliated a minute longer.
Margo? Rys arms loosened, but he didnt release her.
Im right here, Ry. Margo returned from her walk down memory lane, the sour taste in her mouth burning her throat and making her voice sound raw and husky. I felt a little dizzy for a moment, is all. You can let go now.