Chapter 12
Jude
Boring.
Boring? Really? Which idiot thought that.
She’s gorgeous.
Flushed skin, heating up as I watch her. Complexion like a sea of milk, smooth, delicious. I just need to have a liiiiittle drink. Just one. Her hands in my hair, I want her to grasp it, pull it.
I can’t stop the groan escaping the back of my throat. At least I can pass that off as concussion relevant. But the lump at the back of my head is her only focus. It’s a good job she's focused, because if she looked anywhere else…
I’d have to try to add the biggest hard-on in history as another symptom of concussion. But it isn’t, it’s her.
The electrical jolt I got when I touched her is lingering. It’s as if a power tool has been handed to me at full throttle. My body is fucking vibrating.
I make a grab for her, but my aim is still a bit off.
I’m hanging onto her fingers, her hands.
God, they feel soft, small. Her scent seems to have gotten stronger.
Strawberries and cream, spices and summer flowers.
I move my fingers to gain more of her. To have touched more of her. Fuck, I want to pull her onto me.
But I can’t. I’m losing my mind. I’ve been knocked out, and I’m so fucking tired. Her voice, her touch, it’s lulling me to sleep. Maybe I can just shut my eyes…
But they won’t shut. They can’t get enough of hers. Blue, the bluest, and turquoise.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I can almost see her aura, it’s so blue, and morphs into magenta and back.
Fuck, I might have hit my head harder than I thought.
I wake up with a start. The room is so low lit, I’m not sure where I am. I spot the woman laid on the sectional part of the settee. A blanket covering her. The house is quiet. What the hell time is it? I need to leave. Go home.
I sit up with a groan, and a fucking headache.
She springs up from the settee, saying quietly, “Jude, let me get you some fresh water.”
I nod. “Do you have any paracetamol? My head aches.”
She nods and walks into the kitchen. The low glow from the under-counter lights does the barest minimum.
Her shape is illuminated as she comes towards me in her nightdress, a satin strappy thing under a matching satin robe.
It’s very Hollywood 1920’s style. And here I had her down as up to the neck cotton. With a fluffy towelling robe to match.
Boring.
But she is surprising me.
She brings me a fresh, cold tea towel, removing the one from the back of my head, and feels around the bump. I grit my teeth, and see her doing the same. She’s empathetic, I love it.
“Does it feel any better?” she asks quietly.
“I’d like to say yes so I can leave, but no, it doesn’t.” I lean into her touch, still working its way round my head.
“It’s after midnight.” Her face is a picture of worry. “Why don’t you go into the spare room. It’s all ready for you. And I’ll check on you later into the night.”
“You want a stranger in your house?”
“Well you’re hardly that. I know who you are. And I mean, my kids did try to bump you off once they knew who you were.” She sighs. “I just want you to be comfortable.” Her turquoise eyes shine into mine, concern pouring out of them.
“So I don’t sue?” I grin at her and she looks a bit sheepish.
“Well, not just that. It was an accident. Please, Jude. I don’t want to drive into London at this time of night, and I won’t let you. Besides, I’ve hid your keys just in case.”
I stare at her, and then start to laugh. “You’ve hid my keys?”
“And your boots. So you definitely can’t go.” she grins at me, and I love the playful glint in those eyes.
“Attempted murder and now kidnapping. Theft of property. You’re really going for it, Ms Lincoln. Now I know where your boys get it from. And you look so mild mannered.” I grin at her with my cheekiest grin.
She smiles in response. A blush appearing on her cheeks. “Appearances can be deceptive.”
Did she just bat her eyes at me?
“God I fucking hope so.”
Her mouth drops open at my ridiculous response. Cool it, Greystone. You’ll scare her to death. To ease the tension, I grin like a crushing school boy.
“The annexe is this way. It’s self-contained, so you should be okay in there. The boys can’t get to you.” She smirks, pointing towards the garage, and I nod in understanding.
I go to stand up and she grabs a hold of my elbow.
“I’m fine, Emma. Steady as a rock.” I hold my hands out to show no shaking. But her touch has turned my insides out. And while I might look ok on the outside, inside it’s a different story, and I don’t want her to let me go.
I gesture to her to lead the way. Yep, definitely the right decision.
I can’t take my eyes off her arse. The satin hugs the shape of her, moving with her body.
I can practically taste her skin on my tongue.
I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a woman in my life.
Not one fully clothed, or even partially clothed.
She’s not even trying, she’s simply showing me to my room for the night. I need to get a serious grip.
She opens the door, and a homely room comes into view. Sofa, TV, and coffee table. All simply furnished, but decorated to the same standard as the house.
“It’s through here. I’ll get you a drink and some more pain killers.” She points into another room, flicking on the light. A king size bed takes up the majority of the space, and I see an en suite next door. She hovers, unsure of what to do, then starts to turn down the bed.
“Emma, I can do it. Please, go to bed. You’ve got work in the morning. The boys school. I think it’s Thursday. Is it?” I look puzzled, and when her face goes pale, I grin at her. “I’m fine, I’m just kidding. It’s Thursday.” I shut one eye to focus on my watch. “Actually, Friday, early hours.”
I step towards her, intending to turn her gently around and usher her out.
But instead, my fingertips brush her skin near her collarbone.
It’s even more silky than the satin robe that has opened up, revealing her beautiful decolletage.
I draw in an involuntary breath. Her face is bright red, and she looks terrified, but strangely excited.
I grin reassuringly and push her towards the door.
She staggers slightly away. “Goodnight, Jude. I’m sorry about all this. I hope you don’t think badly of my boys.” Her voice is full of hope, and I huff out a laugh.
“No, I’ll just wear a suit of armour next time.”
She laughs softly and it goes straight to my dick. Jesus, I am going to be in a permanent state of hardness at this rate. But instead of doing anything about it, I put my hand up in a wave. “Night Emma.” I turn away and head into the bathroom.
My waking mind registers a noise at the end of my bed. I lift my head and see a pair of different coloured lenses staring at me.
Oh sweet Jesus. “Go away,” I state groggily.
“I brought you water,” Nathan...No, that’s not right—it’s the middle boy…Noah. Yes, that one—Noah says and plonks the glass down. “And pills.” He shoves his hand in his PJ pocket and comes up with two pills covered in fluff. He drops them next to the water, then picks up his clipboard.
“What time is it?” I go to grab my watch. 5:30am. “It’s the middle of the night.”
He shakes his head. “We’re getting up for school. We have to leave at seven thirty.”
I scowl at him and his clipboard. “Are you trying to get more information? I’m not telling you my account numbers, so don’t try and bamboozle me whilst I’m in a vulnerable state.” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Drat.” He crosses a mark out on his sheet of paper, which today is not blank. It has symbols on it.
His smile is the same as Emma’s. Fuck me, I was trying to forget about her. And here I have her mini me.
“I’ve got a list of symptoms to check,” he informs me in a very official tone. I grin on the inside. I can imagine Bucky and James at his age doing the same thing. I love it. “Then we can release you.”
“Yeah, I know I’m a hostage.” He grins again. “Go on then, let's get this over with.” I lay back on the pillows, looking defeated.
He clears his throat, looking at the page. “Headache?”
I shake my head, then wince for dramatic effect. He scowls at me.
“Confusion?”
“What?”
“Confusion.”
“What’s that?” I grin at him.
“You’re fine,” he states grimly.
“Memory loss. What’s your name? Date of birth and bank balance.”
“Bob the builder. Virgo. Nil.”
He huffs a laugh at that. “Yeah, that’s about right. I looked up architects. You came up.” He just stares at me, and says nothing else. I’m not sure he’s impressed.
“Do you feel sick? Or dizzy?”
“Nope. And Nope. Bit hungry, but that’s all.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?” He tucks the clipboard under one arm and sticks two very specific fingers up at me and grins. Total school boy. Loving the fact he can sort of swear without swearing.
“Ten.”
“Look again, Jude Greystone. He starts to wiggle his two fingers nearer to my face.”
“Two, and put them down before your mother sees you and I have to add abusive behaviour to your crime family syndicate.”
“We were just defending our territory.”
He looks me over. I’m being dissected, and not just for my bank balance or income tax bracket. Can I be trusted? Do I want to take things from them? My character is under interrogation, and I need to pass this test.
I give him a fair enough look. “Keep up the good work. Protect your mother and brothers.” He smiles again and I feel a bit dazed. I might need to go through his checklist again. Speaking of… “Why do you have symbols and not words?”
He looks a bit embarrassed. “It takes me ages to write the words sometimes, it’s easier like this. I invented these symbols so I would know what they meant. They don’t move as much.”
He looks down and my heart breaks. No fucking way is this kid going to feel bad.