Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Delaney let out a dramatic gasp even as she swatted at his hands. “You would not.”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I would. In a heartbeat.” Actually, a heartbeat had already passed. There is blood on her dress. Delaney is bleeding. That bastard stabbed her. Nash grabbed the bottom of the dress and began to yank it up. The fabric ripped and tore beneath his fingers.
“No! I don’t have anything else to wear!” She backed away. Tried to, anyway, but there was nowhere for her to go in the tiny bathroom. “I’ll take it off! I’ll do it, jeez! Just give me second!”
And she did.
She put her hands behind her back. The zipper hissed as she lowered it. The dress sagged forward, and then it fell to pool at her feet.
Delaney was left wearing white stockings, white heels, white panties, and the most tempting bit of white lace for a bra that he’d ever seen in his life.
And, normally, he would have loved to just stand there and take in the perfection that was his Delaney but…
Blood. Blood covered her right side. It had hardened, and when the dress fell, he’d seen her wince as the dried blood had tried to cling to the fabric and to her body at the same time.
“Tell me that it’s not terribly bad,” Delaney whispered.
He couldn’t tell much about the wound, not yet.
He reached for a towel. Then stopped. Dammit, he had to get some first aid supplies. She might need stitches. And there sure as hell wasn’t going to be anything in that ancient bathroom that he could use that wouldn’t be covered in germs. “Stay right here,” he ordered.
“What?”
“I saw a first aid kit behind the check-in counter. I’m going to get it.” He could grab it and be back in five minutes. Nah, three. Tops.
“No, I’m fine!” She grabbed for the faucet, turning and giving him a truly stellar view of her ass. “I just need to wash the blood away.”
He wanted to treat the wound properly. No sense in exposing her to the risk of an infection. “Delaney, stay here.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m sure it’s okay.” But her lower lip trembled. “He…put a knife in my side, Nash.”
Fuck. “He’s dead, Delaney.” Correction, the prick would be dead when Nash got his hands on the guy.
A tear slid down her cheek. “He did it right in front of the priest. I…I stopped walking down the aisle, and Kurt came at me. He put the knife in my side—the tip of the blade, I felt it go into me.”
Oh, but I will make his death hurt. “Why in the hell were you marrying him?”
She flinched. Squared her shoulders. Turned back to the sink.
But he could see her reflection in the mirror. See the second tear that slid down her cheek. Sadness tinted her face as she told him, “You don’t know Prince Charming is a monster until he decides to let his dark side out to play.”
Nash’s muscles were already locked in fury, and he made sure not to let his expression alter at her words. Delaney had never understood the darkness that rested in Nash’s own heart. He’d always tried to shield her from that part of himself. And eventually, he’d even walked away from her.
And missed her every damn day.
She yanked on the faucet, and water poured into the sink. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” A brisk nod. Another teardrop.
Things were not, in actuality, fine, and the woman had to know that. More like, everything was on fire.
But she nodded again and said, “I just need to wash away the blood. I absolutely do not need stitches. So don’t even think of finding some shady needle to poke into my skin. The cut isn’t that deep. I’m sure it’s not and…why do you keep picking me up?”
He had picked her up. Turned her around. And sat her down on the edge of the sink. He stood in front of her.
“Oh, this countertop is not going to hold me.” She bit her lower lip as she peered down at it. “I do not think we are talking quality craftsmanship here. I’m about to go flying to the floor.”
“Stop.”
Her long lashes fluttered. Delaney had dark and thick lashes. Full and gorgeous lips. And, yes, she still did have that faint sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
“Stop what?” Delaney asked.
“You think I don’t know that when you get extra scared or nervous that you talk faster or that you throw out some joke? You always did that. Always tried to laugh it off when you were terrified of something.”
She swallowed. “Excuse me for trying to find a bit of light in the darkness.”
She was his light in the darkness. Fuck me. “This is such a mistake.” He shoved back from her. Mostly because he’d been seconds away from kissing her.
She kissed me right outside of the church. He’d been so stunned that he’d frozen on her. When what he’d really wanted to do…Lock my hands around her. Hold her tight. Kiss her frantically. Hungrily. Desperately. Never, ever let go.
“What’s a mistake?” Her big, deep and dark eyes—yep, the hazel had shifted more to dark brown—stared up at him. “Helping me?”
“Wanting to fuck you into oblivion. That’s my current mistake.” He shook his head. “I’d help you any day of the week. You need me, and I’ll come running. Didn’t I prove that tonight?”
Her jaw dropped.
“Stay here.” He was pretty sure he’d given her that order before. But he wanted to make sure she remained in the motel room and out of sight. “I’m going to get the first aid kit. I’ll be back in three minutes. Three minutes.” Maybe two if he hauled ass extra fast.
Her hand flew out to curl around his arm. “What if…what if Kurt comes while you’re gone?”
“Then I’ll beat the hell out of him.” The way he should have done at the church. The way he would have done if he’d known that dick had taken a knife to Delaney.
He’d been operating in the dark. His only order from his sister Agnes had been…
Stop the wedding.
Something he’d already been planning to do before she called.
He pulled away from Delaney. Stalked out of room seventeen and made sure to lock the door behind him.
In moments, he was back inside the small motel’s office.
The guy behind the counter was scrolling on his phone, humming and bobbing his head.
Young male, with wild, puffy hair—blue in a few spots—and with the saddest wisp of a mustache imaginable trying to sprout across his upper lip. When the clerk caught a look at Nash…
The kid’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes widened. “I know the room is shit, man. I tried to warn you. But there is no better room that I can offer. That is, like, it. And there are no refunds. Motel policy.”
Nash slapped a fifty down on the counter.
The kid frowned. “What’s happening right now?”
“I’m taking your first aid kit.”
“My what?”
Grabbing hard for his patience, Nash pointed at the red first aid kit behind the counter.
“Oh, would you look at that?” Real surprise in the teen’s voice. Hell, maybe he wasn’t a teen. Maybe he was in his twenties, but he just looked helluva young. “Wonder when we got that?” the guy asked.
“I’m taking the kit,” Nash said again. He slapped another fifty down on the counter. “And you are going to make absolutely sure that no one ever knows who stayed in room seventeen, got me? And if anyone comes around here before I check out, you alert me. Immediately.”
The kid handed him the first aid kit. The clerk also made the money vanish in a flash, as if he’d just performed a magic trick. “Are you like, wanted for some crime or something?”
Nash stared at him.
“You’re scary, man,” the motel clerk told him. “And you’re also not here. Not at this motel at all. Check. Understood.” A sly wink. “I will tell no one. Never saw you. Don’t know you.”
Nash grunted. He’d deliberately kept Delaney out of the guy’s line of sight. As far as Nash was concerned, no one else needed to see her. It was safer for Delaney that way. Armed with his kit, he hurried back to room seventeen.
Had Delaney followed orders? He entered the room, bracing himself to see her in those stockings and panties and the bra that made him want to get down on his knees and worship the woman.
Water was running in the bathroom. Nash could hear it. He locked the front door and hurried toward the sound of that water, only to draw up short when he realized that her stockings were on the floor near the bathroom’s entrance. Her stockings and her high heels.
Nash stopped. Swallowed. “Delaney?”
“It’s really not bad. I, uh, I cleaned away most of the blood. It’s not deep. Not too deep, anyway.” She moved into the bathroom doorway.
Sexy bra. Tiny panties.
Nothing else.
He almost lunged at her.
“See?” Delaney angled her right side toward him. “I got rid of the majority of the blood. It’s just a cut. The slice was more a warning than anything else. If Kurt had wanted to kill me, he would have shoved the knife into my heart.”
Kurt is dead. Dead. Dead.
“But he needed me alive until we were married. I wasn’t going to be useful to him as a dead fiancée.
A dead wife is an entirely different matter.
” Her gaze fell to his right hand. “Oh, you have the first aid kit.” She looked back over her shoulder.
“It’s really tight in here. You know, because…
um, you’re so big and, um…” Her head swung back toward him.
“How about we just slap a bandage on me and call it a night?” She crept out of the bathroom.
“I’m not just slapping a bandage on you,” he growled.
“Okay, Dr. Quinn.”
He wasn’t a doctor. His nostrils flared. “Come here.”
She closed the distance between them. He yanked open the first aid kit and tossed it on the nearest bed. Antiseptic wipes were inside, and he snagged them first. His left hand curled around her waist.
Delaney sucked in a breath.
Immediately, his gaze flew to her face. “I hurt you?” He never wanted to hurt her. “I haven’t even touched the wound yet!”
“No. You didn’t hurt me.” She licked her lips. “Just…sometimes, I forget what it’s like when you touch me.” She thrust back her shoulders, and the move just made her breasts all the more tempting. “Sorry, I’m good now. Go ahead.”