Kneeling in front of her, he paused as he brought his hand up and ran his fingers softly across her swelling cheek. "I'm so sorry this happened, Kyla."
Damn security!
It wasn't something he'd even thought the building needed, which was foolish on his part. There were single women and children here in a less than respectable area of Seattle. A front lobby area was available. It wouldn't be that difficult to have twenty-four-hour security present and keypads on all outside doors.
"They followed me home from the mall. I don't understand guys like that," she said, obviously upset, but holding herself together extremely well under the circumstances.
"They aren't real men," he said, raising the washcloth and placing it gently against her cheek.
"No, they aren't," she agreed, and her lips turned up just the tiniest bit.
"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. I'm sorry they had the opportunity to hit you." I'm sorry I was too cheap to add security to the building, he added silently.
"I'm just glad you showed up when you did, that it wasn't worse than it was. I've never had a problem here before - not to that extent. The worst that's happened in two years is the occasional drunken neighbor trying to talk me into a date. I just … " She stopped when tears filled her eyes and she started to choke up.
He was amazed she was able to sit there so calmly. "How did you end up here?" Okay, not so calmly; she flinched at that question. But Tanner went on. "From what I've observed over the last few days, you seem smart, too smart to be working as an elf and living in a dump like this."
"It doesn't matter," she said, squirming in the chair in front of him.
"I want to know."
"I … life happens."
"Yes. Sometimes situations are beyond our control, Kyla. But I have a feeling there's a lot more to you than meets the eye."
"I don't want to talk about it," she said, and her eyes met his with a challenging gleam.
He respected her bravery. "Sometimes it can help to speak to a stranger." He didn't know why he was pushing her, why it mattered. He should just give her the ice pack, lead her back to her apartment, and walk away. This woman was obviously too complicated, not his usual type at all.
He was stuck in this place, though, stuck here for another twenty-one days. And he found himself wanting to know her story, wanting to connect with her. It was probably just because he was bored, he told himself, that she'd piqued his curiosity, but there seemed to be something else there, something he couldn't identify. Stupid.
"You can talk to me. I won't repeat what you say. You never know … it might help," he said, pushing back some loose strands of her hair as he watched the indecision flash in her eyes. He was surprised when she began speaking in an unutterably quite voice.
"A couple of years ago, I was with my family on vacation and there was a wreck. I lived. They didn't," she said with a shrug, as if she were over it, as if it were no big deal. But the pain radiating from every pore of her body contradicted the way she forced out those words with such feigned casualness.
"I can't imagine," Tanner said, completely out of his element, not knowing what he should say for the second time that day. Twice now, someone was telling him about losing parents way too soon. Was this fate that they had met? No! He didn't believe in fate or any other hogwash like that. It was merely a coincidence. That was all.
But, fool that he was, he went on. "Did you have siblings?" He knew he should have shut up, let this go, but he couldn't seem to control his mouth. And he had been the one to push her to speak.
Her eyes flashed with pain even more raw than before. "A little brother," she said in a whisper.
"Oh, Kyla, that has to be really tough." How lame, but that was all he could say.
"Those are the standard words I hear. It's okay, Tanner. It happened almost two years ago. Almost to the day."
"Christmas?" he asked, horrified.
"Two days before."
Damn. He really had no clue what to say to her, no clue at all.
She looked down at the floor as she tried to compose herself. "I need to get back to my place," she said softly. She brought her hand up and pushed at his fingers, which were still holding the ice to her cheek.
Tanner pulled them away, wincing at the sight of her delicate cheekbone; a slight bruise marred her features, but only that. At least the swelling had already gone down. He was glad he'd arrived when he did - it could have been so much worse. He set the washcloth aside and slid his thumb tenderly across the cruel mark before resting his hand against her neck.
Her gaze locked with his and she shivered. Almost against his will, Tanner found himself leaning forward, coming closer to her as his other hand rose and his fingers wrapped around the soft strands of her hair.