Please, don’t go,I wanted to plead. But all that came out was a meek whimper.
He circled the bed, hesitated, then crouched down in front of me. I only caught a vague impression of wide shoulders before my eye slid firmly shut, like the hurt one. A hazy impression stuck, though — that of a big, burly angel backlit by pale dawn light.
Soft lips grazed my brow, and I sighed, settling back into the sheets. Maybe everything would be okay after all.
Light steps sounded, then faded away.
* * *
The next time I opened my eye — singular — sunlight spilled around the edges of the curtains, and birds chirped. Morning, it seemed.
I rolled carefully to my back, groaning, then lay limp, taking a mental inventory. Right eye okay. Left eye gooey and thick. Every heartbeat echoed through my head, but the pounding was down to a more manageable pulse.
I felt around, tracing fabric all the way from my chest to my legs. So, whew. Mystery Man hadn’t overstepped the boundaries there either.
I lay quietly for a minute or two, then rolled ever so slowly and eased my legs over the side of my bed. Sitting up made my head swim, but eventually, my limited view stabilized. Standing, I took one unsteady step, then another, toward the bathroom. There, I declared a time-out and hunched on the throne for along, long time. Finally, I forced myself to stand and wash my hands. Only then did I look in the mirror—
—and gasped at the monster staring back at me.
I looked like I’d been in a train wreck. One eye was swollen grotesquely shut, and a bruise crept over the left side of my face.
I gulped, then forced myself to dab at my eye with cold water. Even the slightest motion hurt.
The digits on the clock beside the sink flipped, catching my attention. Cursing, I hurried to fix my hair, then rushed for the door. Seven o’clock. Breakfast. Clients waiting. Big-paying clients I couldn’t afford to lose.
If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have realized how ridiculous that was. But I wasn’t, so I rushed downstairs and into the kitchen, where I froze.
Bene stood over the stove, wearing one of Madame Picard’s frilly aprons while cooking eggs, sunny-side up. The coffee machine percolated, and a bowl of sliced fruit stood beside the door to the dining room.
“Oh, hello. Didn’t expect to see you up so soon,” Bene said. He leaned in for a closer look at my eye, then winced. “Wow.”
Moving quickly had made my blood pump, and now that I’d stopped, it all drained away from my head. I sank into a chair.
“I don’t feel very wow.”
When my head stopped spinning, I moved toward the refrigerator to set out milk and juice.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Bene blocked the way.
I studied him a moment too long, because he tilted his head. “What?”
I was too embarrassed to ask,Were you the one who put me to bed and held me so sweetly?but I did wonder.
Just then, Roux came in through the dining room door. He froze, gaping at my face.
“Merde. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His shoulders sagged, and his features fell.
“It’s not so bad,” I tried, fearing he might drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
“Liar.” Bene snorted, then shooed me away. “Go sit. And you…” He pointed to Roux. “Get her some ice.”
“Really, it’s—” I protested, but Bene pointed with the spatula.
“My kitchen today. Out. Both of you.”
I glanced around. “Wait. Where’s Claudette?”
Bene shrugged. “No idea. She didn’t show. Now, go sit.”
