Gentleman Sinner

‘I’m fine, thank you.’ I rummage through my bag to find my phone, not that I know what I’ll do once I lay my hands on it. I have no one to call, since Jess is still at work. I just need something to distract myself. My hands freeze in their searching, and the sound of a smashing phone in my head reminds me that my mobile is no more. I could laugh. I’m in a strange house, with lots of strange, large men, and I have no phone. Smart move, Izzy. Really smart.

‘Lost something?’ Theo asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

I straighten up and raise my chin. ‘Yes, my gun.’

His eyes sparkle, and he holds up his hands in surrender.

I sigh on a disbelieving shake of my head. ‘I should see to Penny and go.’

‘Of course.’ He kicks his feet into action and passes me. ‘I’ll show you the way.’

Breathing some steadiness into myself, I start to follow, focusing on anything around me except the towering frame of the man a few steps ahead – the elaborate art hanging on the walls, the striped carpet with gold stair bars in the crook of each step, the intricately corniced ceiling.

His back.

His arse.

His thighs.

I bite my lip . . . and trip up a step. ‘Shit.’ My face plummets forward, heading for the backs of those thighs.

‘Careful.’ Theo swivels and catches me, his arse hitting a step as he holds my hips. I’m kneeling on the step below him, his long legs spread wide. His hold tightens along with his jaw. I feel stifling hot, my eyes locked on his chest before me. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks, a certain strain in his voice.

‘Your stripy carpet makes me dizzy,’ I mumble like a fool, lying through my teeth. It’s him that makes me dizzy. Just him. His hard handsomeness, his voice, his physique. His touch.

‘Maybe I should carry you,’ he suggests, but there’s no hint of a teasing edge. He’s deadly serious, and though it’s an utterly ridiculous suggestion, I can’t help but wonder just how amazing it would feel to be completely encased in Theo. How safe it would be. ‘Would you like me to?’

I laugh, since nothing else comes to me. ‘Don’t be silly,’ I scoff, going to push his hands away from my waist, but he shifts and scrambles to his feet like lightning, almost in a panic. I stare up at him, stunned, as I pull myself to my feet. He glances down at his hands for a moment, then back to me, confusion in his eyes. A few awkward seconds tick by, his gaze passing from his hands to various parts of my body. What the hell?

‘You’ve had quite a scare,’ he mutters, shaking his head and turning. ‘There’s nothing silly about my offer.’

I’ve insulted him. He offered to help me, and I laughed in his face. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you,’ I call, remaining on the step halfway up the stairs. ‘I’m sorry.’ I don’t know why I feel the urge to apologize, but I can’t ignore it.

Theo veers to the left. ‘I don’t get offended, Izzy. This way.’

I frown, my feet taking the steps carefully. That’s strange, because he seems highly offended.

Once I’ve caught up with him, I make a conscious decision to keep my mouth shut, tend to Penny, then get the hell out of here. And judging by Theo’s sudden coldness and the fact that he’s now refusing to look at me, he might be thinking along the same lines. He turns the handle on a door. He pushes it open. And then he stands a few metres back, opening up the way. And stares at me. A cold stare.

I sigh, weirdly upset that I’ve upset him. He’s a big man. A very big man. Don’t tell me he has feelings under all those muscles.

First, I spot Penny tucked up in a huge wooden bed, then next to her a trolley kitted out with every piece of medical equipment a nurse could need. I have no clue how he sourced it all, and so quickly, and I’m not about to ask. Get done and get out. No questions, no conversing. I shouldn’t even be here, and neither should Penny. She should be in a hospital.

I get to work, hearing the door close behind me, and look back to find I’m alone. I’m grateful. He upsets my balance. I march over to the bed and quickly check her vitals, finding she’s no better than the last time I checked in the car, but, more importantly, she’s no worse. Pulling the covers back, I see she’s been stripped down to her knickers. Her nakedness reveals more injuries, and my face screws up in disgust at the sight of the scattered bruises, some fresh, some with a yellow tinge that suggest old wounds. The poor woman looks like she got a good beating on a regular basis.