Irresistible Knight (5 page)
“Did you say dandelion. My God. What are you? A bear?”
“You're not funny.”
“And how can you say no to an avocado shake? Man, I tell you, avocado with milk, sugar, and ice is a delish.”
“So you want me to go home and eat until I look like a blimp to match my swollen ankle.”
“Baby, you're gonna need more than a case of ripe avocado to fatten you up.”
“Are you saying I'm skinny?” She huffed, then bent down to rub on her sore ankle.
Man, what was it about women and their ankles and weight. Bors knew he touched a sensitive topic. Based on his experience with his sister and sister-in-law, he learned never to mention anything about a woman's figure unless you were complimenting them. He decided not to answer the woman. Instead, he moved forward, laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on his thighs.
“If you're in real pain, I could twist the doctor's arm to see you right away.” The woman looked up. If he moved a couple inches closer, he could kiss her. Awesome thought, but he didn't succumb to it. He bet this woman wouldn't hesitate to sock him if he did. Although a kiss for a punch would be worth it. Gawain would agree with him, he bet.
“You're a brute, a bully, a...” she snapped her fingers, “...a gangster.”
“All of the above, baby. I'm a mean, nasty fighter. Just say it and I'll scare the doctor so he can see you now.”
“Uh-huh.”
Bors grinned. “Or if you want, I could kiss your owie away for you.”
“Nice try. No, thanks. I'd probably catch rabies from you,” she said and broke into an easy, friendly smile.
Bors wasn't ready for it. Her smile wiped away the memories of last night's job and melted his insides. He smiled back. A wayward strand of auburn hair covered the woman's left eye.
Bors raised his arm to push it back, but the ripped part of his jacket touched his wound. Pain from his arm traveled all the way down to the tips of his fingers. “Shit!”
“You owe the curse jar fifty cents, sweetheart.”
Bors looked up. Julie, his sister-in-law, stood in front of him with her arms akimbo. Her round stomach protruded, and she looked lovelier than ever. “Hey, love.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing worth worrying about.” Bors stood up to give Julie a hug, but she stopped him.
“I would give you a hug except you kind of smell.”
“I know. But you still love me.”
“Of course. Smelly or not. You're covered with germs.”
“Do you think they have enough hand sanitizer here to wash me?”
“Ha. Ha. Sweetheart, you're worse than
Pig-Pen
right now. Are you okay? A woman didn't do this to you, did she? I swear I'll gouge her eyes out, whoever she is.”
“Hush, love. It's nothing.”
“Tell me what happened?”
“You don't want to know. How's the baby?”
“Already giving me a hard time. Kicking my bladder. I have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes.”
Bors leaned down, then kissed Julie's pumpkin-round belly. “Listen to me, buddy. Don't give mommy a hard time. She's a wonderful woman and I love her. You'll love her, too, when you meet her.”
“Excuse me.”
Both Bors and Julie looked at the beautiful woman. She looked flushed, angry, and so damn enticing. Like a ripe apple you just want to take a bite off.
“Yes?” Julie asked, smiling.
“I don't mean to intrude, but I'm not just going to sit here listening to your husband sweet talk you. You seemed to be a nice woman who looks familiar to me and who obviously loves him, but this man you married is one fat jerk and in need of disciplining.” She turned to look at Bors. “You are one bad troll.”
The sound of a cell phone ringing interrupted the woman's tirade. She reached inside her handbag, read whatever message was on the screen before shoving the cell phone back in her purse.
It didn't escape Bors the way the woman's face blanched.
“I'm sorry if I sounded like a shrew, but, lady, you married a bad apple. Good day.” She slung her purse on her shoulder, picked up her case, then ambled her way out of the clinic.
“She called you a troll. Not hunk, handsome, sexy, or Mister Irresistible.”
“Yup.”
“My, I didn't know a woman immune to a Knight's charm existed.”
“She exists.”
“And the word troll makes you smile.”
“Couldn't help it.”
“Either she is blind or she prefers the same sex. Do you think she's a lesbian?”
“No. Her vanity resembles yours and Kirsten's.”
“I'm not vain.” Julie swatted his stomach. “Why did she call you a troll? What was that all about?”
“I think she likes me.”
“But she called you a fat jerk.”
“I offered to kiss her sore ankle.”
A knowing smile curved Julie's mouth. “So you did it on purpose. I should have known something was afoot.”
“I did what on purpose?”
“You know what I mean. You used the super sweet endearment
love.
I expected the bees to attack and swarm us. You purposely avoided mentioning that you are an uncle to this baby. Bors Knight, you flirted with her and pretended you are this baby's daddy to irritate the woman. Why?”
“To see how she would react.”
“Well, you made her angry and she called you a bad apple and worse, a troll.”
“Yes. Because she likes me.”
“Men. So incorrigible.”
“Has she been here before?”
“You'll have to ask Tristan. I normally use the back door and not come here in the receiving room. I came out because I heard you were out here and wanted to see what's going on.”
“Now you saw. It's nothing. Just a minor cut. Don't you have anything better to do than hang out with my baby-puke smelling brother.”
“Hey, be nice. I like hanging out here. I get to see the preview of my motherhood. Besides, I like bringing Tristan lunch. We want to spend as much time together as we can before this baby comes out.” Julie patted her belly. “I think this baby's going to be one spoiled Knight.” Her eyes twinkled the way a happy and contented mother's eyes would.
He'd seen the look before. From his mother. Bors patted Julie's stomach. His parents would definitely go crazy when this first grandchild of theirs said hi to the world. His first nephew. The first Knight baby. “Will you do me a favor, love?”
“What is it?”
“Take care of this baby for me. And tell him Uncle Bors loves him.”
“Of course. We'll all take care of this baby. Come now, sweetheart. Your cut is way too far away from your vital organs. So, are you going to stop that woman from leaving or would you rather see your brother first so he can stitch you up?”
Chapter Three
Taylor's ankle throbbed as she slowly dragged her foot on the parking lot. Maybe the handsome Big Foot was right. She should just remove the stupid heel. Taylor stopped walking and removed the shoe with a broken heel. Ah, that's better, she thought. But she couldn't very well walk without limping.
Why get rid of the heel? Just get rid this damn shoe. Both of them. I don't care
.
She kicked off her other shoe and left the pair on the parking lot. The rough cement pinched her soles, but it was better than walking like Doctor Frankenstein's helper, Igor. She looked at Tweed's Pharmacy across the street. There must be a sound pair of sneakers there. Yeah, sneakers. Better yet, a pair of running shoes. She could run better and faster if Jean's men showed up here.
She fished her cell phone out of her purse and checked the short text message again. She read the message aloud. “You can't hide from me, Taylor. Come back and I'll forgive you. Wait longer and you will regret leaving. You can't stay away from me. And remember—know your place, girl.” So Jean knew she ran away.
She thought about Ray, the gray-eyed bodyguard Jean assigned to her three years ago. Taylor's nose began to sting. Her chest tightened. So Ray kept his word. He waited before informing Jean about her disappearance. She wondered what he told Jean. God, she hoped Jean didn't punish him. Ray was the only guard who cared enough to engage her in conversations. Not a friend by any means, but he treated her the way he would any other woman—with respect.
Later, she would call him, to let him know that she was okay.
Ray had thought it would be the best if they didn't discuss her destination. The less he knew the better. Jean could skin him alive, but Ray wouldn't know what to tell him about where she went. Calling Ray now would only place him in a bad situation, if he weren't already.
She could almost hear Jean's voice, angry and booming, yelling at everyone to find her. Numerous times she tried to run away, but failed. One time she took Jean's BMW, although she didn't know how to drive. Instead of driving out of the driveway, she backed the car up and put a gaping hole on the garage's back wall. Not being able to drive sucked. It made it harder to escape. Now, however, at twenty-three with stronger backbones, she was old enough to make a plan. This was the farthest she'd made it without getting caught. And by God, she'd stay on the loose until she carried out her plan for Jean.
For years, she just stood and watched in the shadows while Jean ran his prostitution ring. Many times, with her hands clenched on her sides, she listened to Jean's clients talk about their pick—the young virgins Jean found and took advantage of. Most of them runaways seeking refuge and clinging to Jean's promise of shelter and protection. Little did they knew they were getting into the beast's den. She'd been to Jean's hangar where he kept the girls instead of his Cessna 180 Airplane.
She had watched and listened in the shadows for a long time. Not anymore. It was time to stop Jean. Oh, yeah, she could and would stand her ground.
Enough is enough.
Enough
. Taylor considered the word. Would a threat of divulging his girl trafficking business to the media be enough to stop him?
Well, I'll just have to find that out.
All she needed to do first was find the right person to help her. Jean was one powerful man. Without strong backup with an equal power to support her, Bruno Jean might not feel threatened. Unless prepared, Jean would probably just laugh at her because most likely the majority of Seattle officials had been to his hangar once or twice.
A plan. She needed one right now, and she must act quickly. Jean would find her in no time.
First things first though. She must fix her stupid ankle. Big Foot was right. Her ankle wasn't broken. What she needed was a cold compress and to rest her foot. But she would not eat junk like a cow grazing in a meadow.
Taylor shook her head in disbelief. It was unbelievable how the man flirted with her. He was married, for chrimany sakes. But then that didn't mean anything, really. She'd seen single, married, straight, gay, old, and young bid on Jean's girls. Cheaters. Unfaithful pigs. Men, as far as she was concerned, were the same. Including Big Foot.
Married. What a troll. No surprise there. With a package like that, of course, he wouldn't be available anymore. And looking at the woman, he picked a stunning one, too. A beautiful pregnant woman who was probably crying right now because she found out her husband would flirt at every opportunity he got.
She looked at the store again. It was across the street, but she had to walk to the crosswalk to get there. Times like this, she wished she knew how to drive. She could have rented a car instead of hiring a cab. Why didn't she insist that she learn how to drive when Jean had told her not to even dream about driving? Well, why didn't she fight for her right to be free and live like a normal person? Because she was spineless. Jean knew it. Another reason why he shrugged off her threat.
When Jean said her place would always be at the back of the car, at the time, she thought Jean wanted her to know that it was her privilege to be chauffeured all the time. When she turned sixteen, she found out Jean's intention—to show her that he would always be in control of her life. She could go wherever he wanted her to go, but not alone. Ha! What kind of life was that?
Taylor turned toward the crosswalk two blocks from where she stood. Thinking about walking that far made her ankle hurt even more. She supposed she could just cross the road.
It isn't like I will be crossing a major intersection. Surely, I could do it without getting run over.
She looked from the left, then to the right. After the oncoming SUV, she'd cross. She was waiting for the street to clear when someone touched her elbow. Taylor jumped and screeched like a cat with its tail pinned at the same time. She turned around and found the handsome jerk she met at the clinic.
“Sheez, you scared me.”
“Sorry. You were so deep in your thoughts, you didn't even hear me. I bet you didn't hear the elephants trumpeting.”
“What elephant?”
“See? I'm right.”
“Whatever.” Lifting her chin a bit, she looked at the man. Lord, he was tall, built like a gym rat, rugged looking, and ... so handsome. “What do you want? You're not a stalker, are you?”
“Depends.”
“Oh, God.” Taylor took a step away from him.
“Cool it. I'm only a stalker in bed.”
“Oh, God,” Taylor repeated. She couldn't tell which type of stalker was worse.
“You call God all the time.”
“Only when I'm facing a troll like you. So can I help you?”
“Actually, I'm here to offer my help. Crosswalk is over there,” he declared, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the same time.
“I know that!” Taylor snapped. “You scared me just to tell me that the crosswalk is over there.”
“I didn't mean to. Like I said, crosswalk is that a way.”
“So? Can't I just cross
here
?”
“No.”
“What are you? Some kind of a traffic police?”
“Worse.”
“Lord, just what I need. A citizen's arrest.” She noticed he was holding her shoes. “Those are mine.”
“I figured, since you're barefoot. You must have misunderstood when I said get rid of the heel.”
“I didn't. It feels better to walk barefoot.”
“You'd regret it if you stepped on something sharp. Where are you going? Did you leave your car at Tweed's parking lot?”
