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"I think you should go to the hospital," Nik suggested, his gaze intent as he stared back at her. "You could be seriously hurt and not know it." She shook her head. "It's bruises."
"You don't know that, Mikayla," he chided her, his voice lowering. "It could be something far serious and you wouldn't know."
"He slammed me against the Jeep and hit me in the face," she said, rejecting the idea. "There are no internal injuries or broken bones. I'm just going to be sore."
"You're just going to have a bruise across the whole side of your face." He reached out then, his fingertips almost brushing against the ache in her cheek. "He should be killed for that alone."
Mikayla's lips parted before she could control it, her heart speeding up, racing until she swore she could feel it in her throat.
It wasn't racing in fear. It was racing in excitement at the thought of Nik's fingers touching her flesh.
"Let's not talk about killing." She almost gave a hard, bitter laugh. The last thing she wanted to even think about was killing. "I forgot to call your cab. You're going to have to wait awhile for it to arrive."
His lips quirked in amusement. "Not a problem." He pulled his own cell phone from the holster at his side before hitting a number.
"Pickup," he notified the other end before giving the address. "Yeah. Good thing I ca
ught you. I'll be waiting outside."
He flipped the phone closed.
"A friend?" she asked.
"A co-worker. She owes me a favor." He pushed the phone back into the holster before turning back to Mikayla. "I'd ask for coffee, but I can almost feel the word 'no' on your lips."
She had to grin at that. No matter how much she wanted to spend more time with this intriguing man, she wasn't as brave as she wished she were.
"Sorry," she sighed, hearing the heavy regret in the sound. "My dad is already going to go ballistic because I didn't call him first thing. If he finds out I let a stranger into my house, he'll begin to question how well he raised me."
"A woman who listens to her father. A strange concept." Nik grinned, causing her stomach to turn flips at the quirk of his hard, bitable lips. Damn, she would love to taste those lips.
41
"There are a few of us left," she promised him, letting a small laugh pass her lips despite the ache in her ribs.
"Yes, so it seems." He tilted his head in agreement. "Ah, well, my ride will be here in two more minutes. I have to say, I was glad to meet you, Miss Martin."
"And I have to say, thank you for saving me." She grinned back as she held her hand out. "Can I have my keys now?"
Pulling the keys from the ignition, he placed them slowly in her palm, his fingers touching her flesh as she felt a subtle, low rush of energy as it passed over her skin. Her fingers curled over the keys, brushing his as his hand lifted.
"Thank you again," she said, her voice more breathless than before.
"I'll see you soon," he promised. "Remember, I live just next door. Come on now; let me see you inside so I can be sure you're going to be okay. Like your father, I'll worry."
"You have children?" Was he married? Oh, Lord, was she lusting after a married man who was going to move in next door with a wife and children?
His expression stilled, though. Something hard and brutal flashed in those icy blue eyes.
"I did once," he finally said before giving his head a hard shake and pulling the latch to the door and stepping out quickly.
He didn't want to talk about it; that was obvious.
He was a father once, he said. His child was dead or somehow lost to him then?
She held her questions, her curiosities. Some subjects were too sensitive, especially between two people who didn't know each other.
Her door opened; then he reached inside and gently helped her from the Jeep.
