It wasn’t easy to move him without causing him more pain, but he was so out of it he only grunted as Stack put an arm around him and half lifted, half dragged him to the side. He didn’t take him near the women, thinking they might react badly to all the blood.
The other guy—yeah. Only superficial wounds, but flat-out drunk, which probably explained the wreck. Stack urged him a safer distance away, but the idiot didn’t stay put, and he wasn’t about to babysit a drunken fool, not when the others might need help.
Luckily, seconds later, both police and paramedics arrived. While the injured were tended, Stack explained to the cops what he’d found.
“Hang around a minute,” the cop said before he and two others went to talk to the drunken man.
Breathing hard through an adrenaline dump, Stack looked around for Vanity and found her sitting on the curb, his coat wrapped around her like a cape, her face in her hands.
Fresh alarm ripped into him and before he even realized he was moving, he found himself next to her. Parts of her dress were scorched, the material all but melted. Soot blackened her long beautiful hair, now a tangled mess. He saw a small burn on her forearm, maybe where she’d bumped into hot metal.
Heart clenching, he crouched down and took her wrists. “Hey. You okay?”
She resisted his attempt to uncover her face and merely nodded.
“Vanity?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just...rattled.” Her shoulders lifted with a deep breath, but she didn’t come out of hiding.
“Are you hurt?” Had she been burned anywhere else? Maybe pulled a muscle while dragging out the other woman? She was so slim, so delicate and female and—
“I look like a disaster.”
So Vanity was being...vain? He smiled. “Naw.” After smoothing her hair again, he put a finger beneath her chin. “C’mon, darlin’. I need you to look at me now.”
Her hands lowered, and Stack got caught in her big blue eyes, framed with smudged makeup.
He’d expected tears, or at least residual fear. He saw neither.
Tipping her head, she smiled at him. “You only recently started calling me darlin’. Is it because we’re finally going to have sex?”
Behind them, a cop coughed.
Closing his eyes, Stack took a single moment, then stood and faced the officer.
Both worried and amused, the cop said, “She’s okay?”
“She will be.” He’d see to it...not that she appeared to need his help with that.
Coming to her feet, Vanity shook out her skirt, tossed back her hair, adjusted his coat over her shoulders, and gave each guy a direct, rock-steady look. “She can speak for herself, and, yes, she’s fine.”
Chastising them?
The cop coughed again, chagrined.
Putting his arm around her, Stack drew her into his side. Whether Vanity needed it or not wasn’t the point. Not for a second did he miss the way the other man looked at her. He got that. Even slightly singed and badly disheveled, Vanity could bowl a guy over.
But the cop needed to understand that, at least for now, she was taken.
When neither man said anything more, Vanity looked toward the ambulance and the woman being lifted onto a stretcher. Her husband was now at her side, still pretty dazed but much of the blood cleaned away. “That poor lady,” Vanity said when they all heard her crying.
“She says the other driver came around the corner on their side of the road. The headlights blinded them. Guess her husband instinctively tried to veer away, but they got clipped anyway, he lost control, and whatever they hit caused the SUV to roll.”
Stack stared toward the second driver who was now loudly complaining. “Drunk?”
“Totally shit-faced and driving on a suspended license. He’s lucky he didn’t kill someone.” The cop eyed them both but settled on Stack. “Luckier still that you came along. You know, most people run from fire. Not to it.”
Stack tugged at his ear. In all honesty, he hadn’t thought about the fire. He’d seen the wreck, then heard the woman calling out...
“He’s wonderful,” Vanity said and leaned into his side. “The way that woman was pinned down... How badly is she hurt?”
“They’re still looking her over, but I know she has several bad burns, maybe a few breaks.”
“Oh, God,” Vanity whispered.
“She’s alive,” Stack reminded her, and kissed the top of her head. The scent of smoke mixed with the softer scents of woman. He wanted to get her home, as much now to comfort her and ensure she was okay as for the sex they’d both been anticipating for months now. They needed showers, and he wanted to check the burn mark on her arm.
The other guy—yeah. Only superficial wounds, but flat-out drunk, which probably explained the wreck. Stack urged him a safer distance away, but the idiot didn’t stay put, and he wasn’t about to babysit a drunken fool, not when the others might need help.
Luckily, seconds later, both police and paramedics arrived. While the injured were tended, Stack explained to the cops what he’d found.
“Hang around a minute,” the cop said before he and two others went to talk to the drunken man.
Breathing hard through an adrenaline dump, Stack looked around for Vanity and found her sitting on the curb, his coat wrapped around her like a cape, her face in her hands.
Fresh alarm ripped into him and before he even realized he was moving, he found himself next to her. Parts of her dress were scorched, the material all but melted. Soot blackened her long beautiful hair, now a tangled mess. He saw a small burn on her forearm, maybe where she’d bumped into hot metal.
Heart clenching, he crouched down and took her wrists. “Hey. You okay?”
She resisted his attempt to uncover her face and merely nodded.
“Vanity?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just...rattled.” Her shoulders lifted with a deep breath, but she didn’t come out of hiding.
“Are you hurt?” Had she been burned anywhere else? Maybe pulled a muscle while dragging out the other woman? She was so slim, so delicate and female and—
“I look like a disaster.”
So Vanity was being...vain? He smiled. “Naw.” After smoothing her hair again, he put a finger beneath her chin. “C’mon, darlin’. I need you to look at me now.”
Her hands lowered, and Stack got caught in her big blue eyes, framed with smudged makeup.
He’d expected tears, or at least residual fear. He saw neither.
Tipping her head, she smiled at him. “You only recently started calling me darlin’. Is it because we’re finally going to have sex?”
Behind them, a cop coughed.
Closing his eyes, Stack took a single moment, then stood and faced the officer.
Both worried and amused, the cop said, “She’s okay?”
“She will be.” He’d see to it...not that she appeared to need his help with that.
Coming to her feet, Vanity shook out her skirt, tossed back her hair, adjusted his coat over her shoulders, and gave each guy a direct, rock-steady look. “She can speak for herself, and, yes, she’s fine.”
Chastising them?
The cop coughed again, chagrined.
Putting his arm around her, Stack drew her into his side. Whether Vanity needed it or not wasn’t the point. Not for a second did he miss the way the other man looked at her. He got that. Even slightly singed and badly disheveled, Vanity could bowl a guy over.
But the cop needed to understand that, at least for now, she was taken.
When neither man said anything more, Vanity looked toward the ambulance and the woman being lifted onto a stretcher. Her husband was now at her side, still pretty dazed but much of the blood cleaned away. “That poor lady,” Vanity said when they all heard her crying.
“She says the other driver came around the corner on their side of the road. The headlights blinded them. Guess her husband instinctively tried to veer away, but they got clipped anyway, he lost control, and whatever they hit caused the SUV to roll.”
Stack stared toward the second driver who was now loudly complaining. “Drunk?”
“Totally shit-faced and driving on a suspended license. He’s lucky he didn’t kill someone.” The cop eyed them both but settled on Stack. “Luckier still that you came along. You know, most people run from fire. Not to it.”
Stack tugged at his ear. In all honesty, he hadn’t thought about the fire. He’d seen the wreck, then heard the woman calling out...
“He’s wonderful,” Vanity said and leaned into his side. “The way that woman was pinned down... How badly is she hurt?”
“They’re still looking her over, but I know she has several bad burns, maybe a few breaks.”
“Oh, God,” Vanity whispered.
“She’s alive,” Stack reminded her, and kissed the top of her head. The scent of smoke mixed with the softer scents of woman. He wanted to get her home, as much now to comfort her and ensure she was okay as for the sex they’d both been anticipating for months now. They needed showers, and he wanted to check the burn mark on her arm.
