This was going to be ugly, Jack thought as he approached his house on Imperial Parade in the base where he’d ordered his men to take Ruth. Yet he’d never felt more alive. Totally buzzed. Ruth could no more get out of his fortified house, than the braindeads could get in. The metal, lock-down shutters on every window made it secure along with the grills he’d fitted to the doors. With extra weapons locked up inside and plenty of tinned food, he could hole up there for several months in an emergency if the braindeads broke down the fencing. His house was a perfect retreat. Man, he was glad he’d added security locks to the gun cupboard in the house because if Ruth ever got hold of a pistol he’d be meat for the braindeads.
‘Thanks for pulling the extra guard duty.’ He nodded to the guards Vassar had stationed in front of his house while he was conducting the Mess meeting.
‘Lieutenant Vassar gave us orders not to restrain the woman, sir. Just deadlock the door.’ The guard returned his key to him.
Jack took off a chain he wore around his neck and threaded the key onto it. ‘Good work. I won’t need you to stand guard anymore. I’ve got this one covered. Go get a good night’s sleep.’
‘I should warn you, sir. The woman hasn’t turned into a braindead, but she snarled and acted like one when we locked her in your house,’ one of the young men reported, a wry expression on his face.
‘We knew she hadn’t turned. The braindeads don’t talk or swear. She does,’ explained the second man.
Jack bit back a grin. ‘I’m sure Ruth had plenty to say. Thanks for the warning.’ He unlocked the front door and stood back. No kitchen knives came flying at him, so he reached in and switched on the hall light. No wild-eyed, growling woman waited for him, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think Ruth was going to greet him with open arms and spread legs. He wished. Dammit, he couldn’t stop thinking about how good her pussy looked.
‘Ruth?’ he called. No answer. He turned right and walked down the hallway to the bedroom, checking the spare bedroom as he sidled past. When he entered the main bedroom he saw her sitting on the chair in the corner, her knees curled up under her chin. The right side of her face was swollen from where Sue had hit her. She’d have a black eye tomorrow if he didn’t get some ice on her face.
She stared at him, her eyes wide and glassy watching his every movement. Hunched forward, she kept her arms wrapped around her knees so that she appeared small, almost child-like. From her body language he figured it had been her pride that had taken a beating with that slap.
He took off his jacket and hung it in the wardrobe. ‘What, nothing to say? That’s not like you.’ He expected a torrent of abuse but she didn’t utter a word. Instead he saw her swallow.
He undid his shirt, shrugged it off and put it on its hanger. ‘I had my men bring in your duffle bag. The medical supplies from the bag are in the surgery. I’ve organised a man to meet you at nine and take you to the navy hospital.’ The duffle bag rested against the bedroom wall. He picked it up and placed it on the bed where she could reach it. She didn’t move, just stared at him as if he were a predator. A bruise was beginning to form under her eye, so he strode to the kitchen, opened the freezer door, extracted a soft icepack and wrapped a tea towel around it. ‘Here,’ he offered it to her when he returned. ‘Put this on your cheek.’
She didn’t take it. Instead she rested her forehead on her knees and linked her fingers in front of her as if trying to close him out. He noticed several of her fingernails were jagged and wondered if she’d been trying to open the shutters. Fight or flight was a common response to fear.
He left the icepack on the bedside table, toed off his dress shoes and unzipped his trousers. Steeling himself, he mentally cautioned his cock telling it under no circumstances was it to raise its head. Unfortunately his cock wasn’t a good listener. He hadn’t had sex since his wife passed away over a year ago. Car accident. Killed with her lover. Dead. Gone. Buried in all but his mind.
Vassar reckoned his obsession with law and order and keeping his men alive was his way of compensating instead of grieving. Vassar didn’t know shit. However, anger and guilt didn’t make for good sleep companions and nothing but jerking off at night helped him sleep. The trouble was his cock was used to his method of relaxation. He didn’t think Ruth would appreciate it.
He stripped down to his jocks, deciding he’d better sleep in them until Ruth adjusted to him. Her total lack of engagement had him on edge. Walking over to her, he sat on the bed near her and picked up the icepack. ‘Look up, Ruth.’
She raised her face, noticed his near-nakedness and flinched. ‘You said you wouldn’t touch me.’
‘I’m not.’ He gently pressed the icepack to her cheek. ‘I’m holding the icepack in place.’ He put it on her cheek. ‘Your friend sure clouted you. Thought your head was about to snap off. She normally hit that hard?’
‘No. Never.’ Her voice was small. Wounded.
‘I think you should have told Sue you were bitten.’
‘I’m not interested in your opinion. You’ve caused enough trouble.’ Her mouth wobbled and her eyes appeared watery.
He moved the icepack over her bruised eye. ‘You don’t like listening to anyone from what I can see. Your roommate had to wallop you to get her point across.’
She took the icepack from him. ‘I can manage,’ she said, holding it to her face. She kept her feet up on the bedroom chair as if she thought she could bar him from her body. Fat chance. If he wanted to, he could take her, right there and then, he could spread her thighs and see that beautiful pussy again, but she’d hate him forever.
Worse, he’d hate himself.
Not happening.
One of the buttons on her shirt had come undone and he could see the bite mark on her cleavage. Creamy skin, the type he wanted to lick. Man, he was hard. ‘You know what your problem is, Ruth? You think you can manage alone. The whole city has changed. It isn’t safe to go anywhere by yourself now.’
‘I’m an only child. I’m used to being alone. I’ll take my chances. And don’t think I don’t know what this is. You’re the one who doesn’t like being by yourself. That’s why you have me trapped here even though you don’t like me.’
‘You’re wrong about that. You’re a strong character but I think we could rub along well together.’ Every cell in his body craved her.
‘We won’t be rubbing anything together. Ever. Get that in your thick head.’ She took the icepack from her cheek and threw it on the floor in disgust.
She had a hunted look about her. Her cheek was bright pink from the slap and her top lip puffy. Didn’t stop him from wanting to kiss her and graze his mouth around her tender skin. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I’m trusting you with my men’s lives. I need to get to know you better.’
Disbelief crossed her face. ‘You have me trapped in your bedroom. I can’t budge your shutters and I’m willing to bet that key you’re wearing around your neck is the key to the deadlocked front door. This is hardly a professional relationship.’
‘It’s a fast way to get to know you.’
‘And just how do you plan to go about that?’
The look in her eyes set his teeth on edge. The giveaway was the way they glittered. Her right hand was snaking behind her back. It was time to push her to the edge. ‘How about a hot naked shower together to take the iciness out of our relationship?’
‘I doubt you could manage that without touching me.’ She raised her eyebrows and there was something provocative about the expression.
His lips curved up at the thought of her hot, steamy and naked. ‘There won’t be much space between us in the shower cubicle. We could end up touching.’
‘A hot shower would be great.’
She was too compliant and it put him on high alert, but the horny dog in him was up for it. He’d take his chances and hope like hell he didn’t regret it. ‘Knew you’d see sense.’
‘Why don’t you get me a towel?’ she purred.
‘Sure.’ How dumb did she think he was? Better get whatever she was going to try out of the way. He turned and started to stand, moving towards the cupboard that held the towels. He saw the flash of metal in her hand at the edge of his vision. He swung around and caught her by the wrist and squeezed so hard he could feel her bones shifting.
She cried out.
‘Let it go, Ruth,’ he growled.
The scalpel dropped to the floor. He swept down, scooped it up and released her.
She moaned holding her wrist, rocking back and forward. Fear filled her gaze.
Jack stalked from the room. Muscles bunched, adrenaline firing, fury eating at him. Normally he’d strike a deathblow to the combatant at this point. Instead, he focused on locking the scalpel away safely in the weapon’s cupboard while taking in deep breaths to calm himself. It didn’t work. He thumped his fist into the wall. How the fuck had she managed to get her hands on that scalpel? That damned recruit who’d unpacked her medical supplies was going to have some explaining to do tomorrow. He strode back into the bedroom.
Ruth had moved out of her seat and was backed up against the wall, her face chalk-white and her breathing erratic.
‘You owe me. Time for that naked shower you promised me.’