Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

Ben was wearing a proper sling. “It does feel a lot better supported like this,” he said, and Ana smiled while she dug into his wallet again to pay the salesgirl.

Ana suddenly said, “Wait. There’s something else you may need.” She turned to the young woman and asked, “Would you please get us some ibuprofen? A small bottle should do.”

“You assume I don’t have something like that on hand?”

“You’re a man, aren’t you?”

Their eyes met. Neither looked away. Ben stepped closer to her and said, “I most certainly am.”

Ana reacted to his seductive air of confidence by looking away demurely; however, what she was feeling was anything but demure. Again, there was the pleasant adrenaline rush as she thought of the ways she would like to help him confirm that particular fact.

CHAPTER THREE

Their business drawn to a close, Ben and Ana joined the flow of diligent shoppers scurrying up and down the street. They strolled for a block or so, enjoying the sun and the colorful offerings of a flower seller whose kiosk was set up on a busy corner. Ana noticed a quaint café whose entrance was graced on each side by wooden boxes filled to the brim with a variety of spring flowers. There were lace curtains on the paned windows, and as a customer opened the door to exit, the aroma of fresh baked goods served to lure them inside. Neither had eaten anything other than the pub’s stale pretzels since lunch the previous day, so with just a mutual glance of approval they went in and took a table by the window. Both enjoyed a hearty breakfast accompanied by pleasant and diverse conversation that excluded any mention of the previous night’s assault.

When they had finished, Ben asked, “Do you have an office here in London that requires you to appear in person on a daily basis?”

“No, thankfully. When I accept an assignment, I’m on my own until it’s completed. Sometimes they check in— ask me to call with an update on how it’s going. They like to make sure I’m not enjoying myself too much on their dime.”

“Then they’d be pleased to know what a rotten day you had yesterday, at least the part after we met in the pub,” Ben said, his tone almost questioning. Perhaps he had needed to confirm that meeting him had not been a completely negative experience.

“I wouldn’t call it rotten. Some might call it exciting. But I’d call it frightening, other than the brief part where we were enjoying our informal meeting in the pub.”

Ben couldn’t resist that opening and chimed in, “That was the best part, even better than the invitation up to your hotel room.” He winked at her and waited for a response that didn’t come. “Forgive my ‘cheek,’ but I think we need to lighten up and try to make something good out of what happened.”

Ana agreed with a nod before replying, “You should know that you are definitely the first man I’ve ever asked up to a hotel room, for any reason.” She wondered if he believed her. The lull in their conversation made her uncomfortable, and she said, “I’ve always had a soft spot for lost or injured dogs, even cats.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them, unsure of whether a comment labeling him ‘lost’ might incur a negative response.

Ben sat up straighter in his chair and she noticed he wasn’t smiling. “Is that how you see me after less than twenty-four hours of acquaintance?”

“Of course not. I was just trying to keep it light… as you advised.”

“I can assure you that I’m completely self-sufficient… in normal circumstances. I’ve never been one to let a woman baby me, nor have they wanted to, as far as I know.” Ben leaned back in his chair and placed his used napkin on the table. “I tried to just go home, but you didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“You’re right. I didn’t give you much choice. I can be bossy, like you said, but my intentions were good. I admit I can have a tendency to ‘take over’ in certain situations. Boring stuff from childhood. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. But part of it was how scared the whole thing made me.”

Ben’s tone softened. “I understand that. A man isn’t supposed to be weak or scared, or appear scared anyway. But I was, and I don’t mind admitting it to you.” He leaned forward and with his good arm, reached for Ana’s hand. He closed his fingers around hers and said softly, “I’m glad we can talk to each other about this. And if I haven’t said it enough times already, you were great. You are great, and I’m very glad to have met you, Ms. Ana Doherty.”

Ana was affected by his words and looked down rather self-consciously. She felt that special little ache near the heart that told her she was starting to care for him beyond simple attraction. Clearly it was too soon, and she would probably be wise to avoid the complication all together. There had been only one man in her past that had caused the little ache, but she had been so young, fascinated by his interest in her and suffering from a fragile ego that was naïve to his intentions. Yet this time the response was not about her ego. It was about the way she had met him, the circumstances by which she was starting to know him. But mainly it was about how easily he could elicit a physical response in her at his slightest touch. Before, she had known that on some level her actions were wrong. With Ben, everything felt right.

Their waitperson disturbed the moment by asking if they would like anything else. Ben declined and requested the check. That settled, they were soon out the door and standing on the sidewalk. It seemed that once again each was waiting for the other to make