Driven by Fire (Fire 2)

In a moment the ruins of the black T-shirt were on the floor and Jenny’s errant lust had vanished. To hell with his chiseled abs and golden skin—he had a long gash across his back that was oozing blood and ugly bruises on his shoulders.

“My, my, you two are a pair,” the doctor said. “What happened—a house fall on you?”

“So to speak,” Ryder said in an even voice, as if he weren’t having a nasty wound across his back being cleaned with the same incredibly painful stuff Doctor Gentry had used on her. He didn’t even blink. “I told you her house blew up.”

“And she escaped with a piece of wood stuck in her leg while your back looks like it landed directly on you.”

“Like the Wicked Witch of the West,” Ryder said dryly. “I’m sure that’s what Ms. Parker was thinking.”

Heat flooded Jenny’s face. That was exactly what she’d been thinking. “Of course not,” she protested weakly.

“What’d you do—throw yourself over her body to protect her?” Dr. Gentry scrubbed at his back with a little more energy, and finally he winced. She shook her head. “Of course you did. Always got to be the hero.” She stepped back to survey the wound, which was still oozing blood. “I’ve got some Krazy glue to fix that.”

“Krazy glue?” Jenny echoed, horrified.

“She’s talking about surgical glue,” Ryder said irritably. “Don’t take her at face value—she was top of her class at . . .”

“Long time ago,” Dr. Gentry said, her leathery brown face creased with amusement as she turned to Jenny. “And then I’ll perform a voodoo rite. You can spare some of your blood, can’t you?”

Jenny froze in horror for a nanosecond, then realized she was being teased. She leaned back again in the creaking chair. “Want a piece of my brain too?”

“Depends on how much you got to spare.”

“Stop teasing her, Doc,” Ryder said, holding very still while she applied the ointment. “You don’t want to offend a member of the Gauthier clan.”

Dr. Gentry looked unimpressed as she glanced back at Jenny. “What’s your name, child?”

“Jenny Parker.”

“Jennifer Parker, Esquire, née Gauthier. She doesn’t take after her brothers or her father. She is a hopeless do-gooder. She’s the one who wants to be a hero.” Ryder’s voice was a lazy drawl, and Jenny did her best to keep her expression blank. He knew about her brothers—of course he did. But did he know exactly what they did? Exactly what Billy had done, and how she had covered for him?

“I’m surprised she didn’t wrestle you to be on top, then,” the old woman said. “Get down and get yourself an ice pack for those shoulders. I want to look at your girlfriend’s head wound.”

“I’m not his girlfriend!”

“She’s not . . . !”

The protests came out simultaneously and vigorously, and Dr. Gentry ignore them both. “Why is it”—she inquired of no one in particular—“that young people are so stupid?”

“Neither of us is young, Doc,” Ryder said, sliding down from the table with his pantherlike grace. “She’s twenty-eight and I’m a hell of a lot older.”

“You’re thirty-seven, boy. And I notice you don’t deny you’re stupid.”

Ryder stalked from the room without a backward glance, and Jenny started to rise from t

he chair until Doc’s strong, capable hands stopped her. “You don’t need to move. I can see just fine from here.”

She was surprisingly gentle as she poked at Jenny’s scalp, making clucking noises as she asked her all the questions about blurred vision and sleepiness.

“You’re good,” the old lady said finally. “Don’t worry about feeling tired—just hearing about what you went through makes me want to take a nap.”

“I think,” Jenny said hesitantly, “that I might be in shock, maybe just a little bit. I can’t even cry over my house being gone, but all I want to do is curl up in a bed with the covers over my head. But don’t tell Ryder that.”

“That boy? Of course I won’t. He seems to think he knows everything about everything. You’ll be right as rain in a little while. Old Dr. Gentry’s been around a long time, and that little tap on your head isn’t going to do anything. If you’ve survived being shot, having your house blown up, and being flattened by Ryder, then you’re going to be just fine.”

“What are you telling her about me?” Ryder’s disapproving voice came from the doorway, and instinctively Jenny turned to look, then regretted it.

Somehow in that short time he’d managed to take a shower, and water still glistened on his bare chest.