Passion's Fury (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 2) (5 page)

“When were you planning to tell me all of this?” Simon asked, giving her shoulders a slight squeeze.

“Well, let’s see.  We have now been acquainted for”…she consulted her watch…”oh, around thirty-seven minutes.  I’ll have to check my schedule, but normally I reveal this particular tidbit of information in the fifty-fifth minute of acquaintanceship.”  She shrugged and gave him a pleading look.  “So I jumped the gun a little bit.  I hope this doesn’t mean the engagement is off.”

Everyone laughed, including Simon Rafferty.  His phone beeped.  He fished it out of his shirt pocket and looked at the screen.

“I’d like to have a look at your arm as well,” Dr. McKay said.

“It’s okay.  I doctored the cuts myself with some antibacterial cream in the restroom at Walmart.”

“Nevertheless...”  He folded his arms, leaned his hip against the sink, crossed his ankles, and stared at her until she sighed and pulled her left arm out of the sleeve of her track suit.

Thank God she was now wearing one of the bras she’d bought at Walmart.  She’d put it on in
their
restroom.  “Fine.  I just want to state for the record that
this
particular tidbit of information wasn’t scheduled to be revealed until, well,
never.
”

“Duly noted.”  Smiling, Lucas took her hand and turned her arm back and forth, inspecting the cuts, which by now had begun scabbing over nicely.  He touched one or two, but generally seemed pleased.  “Okay, I think they’re fine.  Your feet, not so much.  You can’t walk on them.”

“Sure I can.  Once I get my shoes on, I can—”

“No.  I mean you are not
allowed
to walk on them.”

She stared at him in horror.  “But—but that’s impossible!  I
have
to walk on them!  How am I going to get anywhere?”

“Where are you staying?”

“I-I—”Flummoxed, she just stared at him helplessly. “I-I’m not.  Once my car is fixed, I’m leaving.” 
Unless it costs too much.  Or takes too long.  Both of which are more than extremely likely.  In which case I’m screwed.  How am I supposed to get a job if I can’t get
to
the job?

“Lacerations on the heel or bottom of the foot take the longest to heal because the skin is so much thicker there.  And they are the toughest to heal because putting weight on them keeps opening them up, risking infection.  You must stay off of them.”

“Don’t worry, Luc,” Simon spoke up, not even looking up from fiddling with his phone.  “She’ll be stayin’ with us.”

“Simon, no!” Kylie’s head snapped around to look at him.  “That’s—I can’t possibly impose on you!  No, no, no.”  She shook her head on each no.  “Impossible.  Out of the question.”

“It’s no imposition, darlin’.  My brothers can’t wait to meet you.  Look.”  He handed her his phone and touched the video replay button.  Two drop-dead gorgeous men who looked exactly like Simon Rafferty were waving at her.  “Hi, Kylie,” one of them said, “I’m Caleb and this is Ash.  Simon told us about your difficulties and we’re delighted to have you as our guest.  Can’t wait to meet you.  And don’t worry about a thing, Lucas.  We’ll make sure she stays off her feet.”

The video ended, leaving Kylie just staring blankly at the phone, not sure what to do or say.  ‘You’ve been recording all this?  Why would you do that?”

“Why would I do that?” Simon cleared his throat and hunkered down beside her once again.  He grabbed both her hands and held her gaze with his.  For some reason Lucas McKay and Helen Voorhees ceased to exist.  It was just the two of them in that little bathroom.  “Because you’re in trouble and you need help.  Because I was drawn to you the minute I saw you sleepin’ in your car. More than I’ve ever been drawn to any other woman. Ever. My brothers and I have been looking for that one special woman all our lives. The one woman strong enough, brave enough, and generous enough to take on three alpha males. The one woman who will complete and fulfill all of us.  Because I want to give us all a chance to find out if you are that woman.”

Her belly did a slow roll, sending fresh cream out onto her panties.  “What are you saying?  That you want me f-for sex?  To be part of a-a ménage?”

“No, darlin’.” His eyes darkened, flickering with some unnamed emotion. “What I am saying is, I want you to give yourself the chance to get to know us and to let us to get to know you.  No pressure, no obligation.  And no sex, unless you ask for it.  Just…think of it as a vacation.”  He grinned.  “A vacation at the Hot, Hunky, Bad-Ass Commando Spa, where your every wish will be granted and you will be waited on hand and foot—uh, feet. You gotta admit it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.  You’d have to be crazy to turn it down.”

She just stared at him, at a complete loss for words.  Her life was officially out of control.  She felt like she was being swept away on the crest of a tidal wave, unable to get off, unable to change direction, unable to stop it or even slow it down.  The thought scared her.  But what scared her even more was the sense of relief that swept through her at the same time.  Relief that, for a while at least, she wouldn’t have to worry about what she was going to do, where she was going to go, or how she was going to get there. She wouldn’t have to pinch pennies to keep from spending money she didn’t have.  And along with that relief was a sense of excitement.  These three hot, hunky men were looking for a woman they could all love.  A woman like her, with curves in all the right places.  A woman who could find the courage to love them back equally.  How could that possibly work?  They obviously thought that she might be that woman.  What kind of idiot would she be to deny herself this opportunity to explore her sexuality with, as Simon put it, three hot, hunky, bad-ass commandos?

I can’t believe you’re actually contemplating this!  Your father
must be rolling over in his grave!

My father can go to hell.  Oh, right, sorry, I forgot.  He’s already there.  He has no say in my life anymore, so back off.

“Okay,” she relented, “but only if you let me help out with the groceries, so you don’t think I’m a mooching, money-grubbing parasite.”

Simon laughed, almost giddy with relief.  “Speaking of mooching, money-grubbing parasites, we need to get outta this bathroom so Phil can get started on our breakfasts.” 

“Wait one more second,” Lucas said, lifting his bag off the floor and balancing it on the corner of the sink.  “Kylie, are you allergic to any medications?”  When she shook her head, he extracted two alcohol wipes, two vials and two wrapped syringes.  He handed the alcohol wipes to Helen.  “I’m giving you a tetanus shot and a shot of amoxicillin.  I’m also giving you a prescription for amoxicillin and one for Lortab.  That’s a pain killer.  Even though the feet are tough, they’re also very sensitive.  This is the tetanus.”  He inserted the needle into the vial through the rubber cap, measured the precise dosage he wanted and handed the syringe to Helen.

“Roll over onto one hip, sweetie,” she said.  “I need to pull down your pants.  This goes in the thigh.”

Leaning onto her left hip, Kylie let Helen pull down the pants to her track suit and swipe her skin with the alcohol before slipping the needle into her thigh.  In the meantime, Dr. McKay prepared the syringe of amoxicillin.  He handed it to Helen along with a flat metal box, like an old-fashioned pencil box.  “Put the syringes in this,” he said.  ‘I’ll dispose of them properly when I get back to the clinic.”

“Roll farther onto your hip, honey,” Helen instructed Kylie.  “Unfortunately, this one goes in the butt, so I’ll need to pull down your panties, too.”

Kylie rolled her eyes and caught Simon staring down at her, a wicked grin on his face.

“Okay,” she said irritably, as Helen exposed her right buttock, “this little tidbit of information wasn’t even on
the schedule, so you can just close your eyes, Mister Rafferty.”

“Too late, darlin’, I’ve already seen that lovely, pink ass.  Besides, she’s done.” 

Kylie felt her pants being pulled back up followed by Helen’s pat on her butt.  “I didn’t even feel it,” she exclaimed, rolling back to a sitting position.

“I’m known for my painless shots,” Helen simpered.

Simon bent down and picked Kylie up in his arms as if she were weightless.  “Thanks so much for your help, Mrs. Voorhees.”

“Helen.”

“Sorry.  Helen.  It was lovely to meet you.  Bring your husband over to the airfield and I will personally take you on our deluxe helicopter sightseeing tour at no charge.  I insist,” he added when he noticed she was about to protest.  “Lucas, thank you.  Good thing you were here this morning.  Any instructions for Kylie?”

“Keep her feet dry.”

“You need to see her for a follow-up?”

“Yeah, bring her in in four days.  Let’s make it the clinic, though, and not the diner’s bathroom.”  He held out his hand.  “Mrs. Voorhees.”

“Helen.”  She smiled.

“Helen.  It was a pleasure meeting you.  Thank you for your assistance.  And speaking of assistants, I’m in need of an office nurse, so if you know of anyone who’d like to move to the thriving little town of Passion Lake, have them give me a call.”

“Will do, Dr. McKay.  Simon.  Kylie.”  She patted Kylie’s knee. “Lovely to meet you honey.  You let your handsome young men look after you. They seem absolutely lovely. And you look like you could use a little pampering.”

Kylie smiled.  “Thank you, Mrs. Voor—Helen,” she amended at the older woman’s hiked eyebrows.  “It was lovely meeting you, too.  I hope you and Mr. Voorhees enjoy the rest of your vacation.  Thanks for all your help.  Sorry to be such a bother to everybody.”

“Sweetie, you’re no bother at all.  Now, I’d better get back to my husband before he sends in a search party.”  She led the little parade out of the bathroom, with Simon carrying Kylie bringing up the rear.  Kylie was surprised to see Brandi standing outside the door. 
No wonder nobody tried to come in while we were in there.  Brandi was out here directing traffic.
  The thought made her smile.  She was beginning to really like the town of Passion Lake, Virginia.  She’d never met so many genuinely nice people before.

“Okay, Brandi,” Simon said on his way past the teen, “tell your dad he can put our breakfasts on now.”

“Is Ms. Ferrell all right?” she asked, a look of genuine concern on her face.

“She’ll be fine.  Just needs to stay off her feet for a week or so.  We’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.  Would you mind returnin’ the chairs to wherever they came from and bring Kylie’s shoes and the Walmart bags out to our table?  Are we still at the same one?”

“Yeah, I put a Reserved sign on it.”

“Thanks, Brandi,” Kylie said, touched by the thoughtful gesture.  “I can’t wait to taste your dad’s cooking.”

Brandi grinned.  “It’s the best.  I’ll bring you some fresh coffee.”

Brandi was right.  It
was
the best.  The eggs were moist and fluffy, the blueberry pancakes light and the size of Frisbees, the syrup pure maple, the bacon thick-sliced, and the hash browns crisp on the outside, soft on the inside.  And Kylie ate every last bite.

“Now that’s what I like to see,” Simon said with an admiring smile.  “A woman who actually eats and doesn’t just push the food around on her plate.”

Kylie snorted.  “You don’t get a figure like mine by pushing food around on your plate.”

He frowned.  “Are you puttin’ yourself down, darlin’?  That has to stop, Kylie.  You are a nicely rounded, curvy little bundle of femininity.  Not every man likes women so skinny their hipbones could slice a cucumber.  You’re perfect for us.”

“Um…”

“Sorry.”  He put his hands up.  “No pressure, honest.”  He took a money clip out of his pocket and peeled off four twenties.  When he caught her staring at them, he just smiled.  “Brandi’s college fund.  C’mon, let’s get you home before the other Hot, Hunky, Bad-Ass Commandos come lookin’ for us.”

He picked her up and she put her arms around his neck.  She’d always wanted to be picked up and carried.  Especially by a man who was strong enough not to wheeze with every step.  Strong enough to make her feel secure in his arms.  Simon Rafferty was definitely strong enough.  He carried her out of the restaurant, followed by Brandi, carrying the Walmart bags and Kylie’s shoes.  Brandi opened the passenger door and Simon bent and set Kylie gently on the seat.  Then he leaned in across her body, his left arm brushing against her breasts, and buckled her seatbelt.

“I’m not helpless, Rafferty,” Kylie said sarcastically.  “My hands work just fine”.

His grin was wicked.  “Sorry, darlin’.  You’re just such a temptin’ little morsel.  Couldn’t help myself.”

Her cheeks heated.  “No pressure, remember?”

“That wasn’t pressure, darlin’.  That was sheer admiration.”

Wow.  A girl could get used to talk like that.

You have no business getting used to talk like that.  You are on the run.  People are trying to
kill
you.  The minute you can walk, you’ve got to get as far away from here as you can.  Even if you don’t give a shit about your own safety, you have no right to endanger
theirs.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.  Geez, can’t a girl dream?

After a brief stop at the pharmacy to pick up Kylie’s prescriptions, the ride to the Raffertys’ large Victorian house took about fifteen minutes.  They rounded a bend in the long driveway and the house came into view.  It was a massive, three-story Victorian farmhouse, with matching porches sweeping grandly across both the first and second floor fronts.  The second story porch ended in an open cupola at the left corner of the house.  Another, larger, two-story cupola at the opposite corner was topped by a Turkish dome.  The house was painted a pale yellow with tan window frames, darker tan accents and white gingerbread trim.  In spite of the lacy look of all the gingerbread, the house’s angles gave it a distinctly masculine feel.