“Yes, but I don’t have any idea how. He needs a doctor, though. If you have antibiotics in your travel kit or any of the others do, bring them to me.”
Jebediah nodded. “Are you sure you’re all right, Briony? He didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head. “He protected me, Jebediah.” She wanted to share with her brother the things Jack had revealed about the “GhostWalkers,” but the fact that she felt no pain around Jack and did with her brothers would bother Jebediah. He’d be hurt by the revelation, and she’d made up her mind a long time ago that she was done hurting her family. They weren’t ever going to know how much she really suffered in their presence.
Jebediah cast a quick glance at the bathroom door. “He must have contacts as well. Has he said anything about what he was doing here? Whether he was supposed to reach an extraction point?”
“He hasn’t said much of anything.”
“That would be Jack. He plays it pretty close to his chest. I’ll get him clothes, keep the door locked.”
Briony followed him and locked the door, setting the coffee aside for Jack when he came out of the shower. She was going to give him another shot of antibiotics the moment he came out, feed him and get more fluids down him. He had to get strong fast and that meant he needed to kick the infection.
The water shut off, and a few minutes later Jack emerged, towel wrapped around his narrow hips. His dark hair was still wet and the raw knife wounds were red and angry-looking scattered over his body. With stitches everywhere, he looked a little like Frankenstein. He had broad shoulders and powerful arms, and was well built, with massive upper body strength and defined muscle. His face was all masculine, tough and weathered with several scars. Other older scars, both from knives and bullets, marred his skin in several places over his body.
“You look a little worse for wear,” Briony observed as she handed him another bottle of water. “Drink this, take another pill, and you can have the entire cup of coffee. I won’t even ask for a sip.”
She looked beautiful to Jack. Sunshine and flowers in a meadow. He tried not to stare at her, taking the water and downing the pill she gave him without question. It hurt just to look at her, and her scent was plain driving him crazy. He turned his back on her and walked to window to check the alley below them. He heard her sharp inhale and knew she was staring at the mess of his back. The front looked worse, but he was alive so he wasn’t complaining.
“I don’t mind sharing the coffee with you.” His voice was gruff—or maybe rusty. He hadn’t really used it in a while. When talking was necessary, Ken had done most of it. Jack hadn’t meant for his statement to come out intimate, but it sounded that way, an invitation. Just being close to her stirred up his body, and his blood pounded in his veins. It was disconcerting to have such a strong reaction to a woman.
“Jack you’re prowling around the room like a caged tiger. Sit down and let me look at your wounds.”
He glanced at her, and his heart did a peculiar somersault, his pulse raced. He pressed one hand to his chest, shocked at the way he couldn’t control his response to her. He sat down because it was easier than trying to walk when it was becoming painful. He realized at once that that was a terrible mistake. She bent over him, her body so close to his he felt her through his skin. Her scent enveloped him until he couldn’t do anything but breathe her in. He was acutely aware of every detail of her body—the curve of her cheek, the length of her lashes, the steady beat of her heart. Every stroke of her fingers, as she applied topical antibiotics, felt like a caress designed to heighten his need of her.
His erection grew thicker and harder, blood pounding, centering in his groin. Her breasts brushed against his arm as she leaned across him to get to a wound on his chest that was particularly inflamed. If his body had hurt before, he couldn’t remember it, with the throbbing ache between his legs. He couldn’t think with the roaring in his head and the taste and feel of her imprinted in him.
Jack gritted his teeth and tried to use his brain. He was a loner, a solitary man who needed no one and kept it that way. Every woman had been someone he could take or leave, and he liked it that way. This woman wasn’t the leaving kind and he knew better than to want her. He had discipline. Control. He heard a noise escape, a growl of need he couldn’t prevent. The sound was as primitive as the way she was making his body feel. Worse, she had somehow gotten under his skin.
His fingers settled around her wrist, and he tugged at her until Briony turned her head and looked at him. Their eyes met and an electrical charge of spine-tingling awareness shot down his spine.