“The corner where one wall meets another, if I had to guess.”
Mr.Beast screws the cap back onto the cream and returns it to its exact spot before taking out a couple of bandages.
“Thanks for defending my brother and me. Those were some impressive fighting skills.”
He rips the paper off one of the bandages, balls the wrappers and the backing, then tosses the bundle into the trash.
“Do you always come to the aid of maidens in trouble? Or are you trying out for a bouncer job?”
Finally, a ghost of a smile touches Mr.Giant’s mouth, and the second bandage joins the first on my forehead.
“Those idiots have been in here before, stirring up trouble. My friend will be happy I found a reason to kick them out for good.”
I wince, and it has nothing to do with the pain in my head. “Is my brother one of those idiots?”
“I haven’t seen him in here before.” Mr.Giant drops the final ball of trash into the wastebasket, then moves to the other side of the room where a sink rests beside a well-stocked, backlit liquor cabinet. “But when you see your brother, please tell him he’s not welcome here anymore.”
“Oh, I will.” He’ll get that and a lot more from me.
Mr.Giant crosses the room, wiping his hands on a plush towel, and I freeze when his eyes lock on mine. Every inch of me feels that gaze, and I suddenly know what a gazelle feels like, pinned by a stalking lion.
Shivers of warning run up my spine, but shivers of a different kind race under my skin and drown them out. My heart skips, skitters, then resumes with a rapid patter that makes it hard to draw a breath. Or maybe it’s his green eyes, the way they make the butterflies in my stomach whirl up a storm, then drop lower until the feeling sinks between my legs.
“Let me see.”
The purr and rumble of his voice are intoxicating, and I don’t protest as he places his hands on either side of my face and looks deep into my eyes.
My breath is shallow, every nerve in my body aware of every inch of this man as he leans closer, his cologne swirling around me until I feel I could get high off the scent alone.
Abruptly, he pulls away and turns back to the liquor cabinet, and I wonder if someone cranked the thermostat in here to a potentially dangerous level.
“You don’t seem to have a concussion. Your eyes are fine.”
“That’s…” My mouth is as dry as the desert, and I swallow before finishing my sentence. “…that’s good.”
“But, as I said, I’m not a doctor. And since I’m not a doctor, I’m going to offer you a drink.”
He crosses the room with two glasses in his hands, both filled with amber liquid, and offers one to me. The sharply sweet smell of whiskey drifts up as I take it.
My first sip of whiskey goes down way smoother than it should, a mellow burn following the liquid down my throat. “You seem to know a lot about medicine for not being a doctor.”
The man shrugs and leans back against the desk beside me, so close our sleeves almost touch. He doesn’t give me an answer. Instead, he takes his own sip.
Two more sips, and my nerves from the fight finally settle. My nerves about the man beside me? They’re still flickering like fireflies, and I dare to look up at him.
The side of his face is finally out of the shadows, and I can see the high cheekbones, the jaw that looks chiseled out of stone, and the mouth that touches the edge of the glass.
I shift, suddenly uncomfortable. When was the last time I was this hot and bothered over anyone, much less a total stranger whose name I don’t even know? I’m not sure I can even remember a time.
Something scrawls across the back of my mind, a small warning of danger. Or at least the idiocy of coming on to someone I just met. It’s the kind of stuff I warn my siblings about. But the waymy body is pulsing, the way the feeling coalesces between my thighs, drowns out the potential danger.
Whether he notices it or not, Mr.Giant angles his head toward me. Half of his face is still in shadow, but his eyes catch mine again.
And this time, I know he’s not looking to check for a concussion.
I’m drawn toward the man like a magnet to metal, unable to resist, and I can smell the subtle hint of whiskey threading through his cologne.
The door opens suddenly, hitting the wall behind it and breaking the spell. “Ilia said those Sokolinaya shitheads started a fight tonight.”
