“Upset isn’t even in the neighborhood.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up at all angles. “I just had to take down a professional killer with a coffeepot. A goddamn coffeepot!”
Yardley forced herself not to relive all the fear she’d felt for him when she’d heard Purdy cry out and then the thud of bodies hitting the floor. She’d slammed out of the bedroom and gone straight for Oleg’s kennel. If she hadn’t been afraid Oleg might mistakenly bite Kye, she would simply have set him free. Precious seconds were lost attaching his leash, but she needed to control the situation.
Looking at Kye now, still so angry she’d swear she could see little puffs of steam rising from him, sent a flood of gratitude and affection and concern rushing over her. She wanted to thank him for protecting her and David. Wanted to say how much it pained her to know that she was the reason his beautiful face was a mess. But she knew he was in no mood to accept anything from her.
She’d seen how he looked at her when she’d touched David. She’d felt like Delilah must have felt after shearing Samson. The horror and shame of what she’d done to an undeserving man. A man whose bed she’d shared. She’d betrayed them both, and herself. And she didn’t know how to climb back from a single second of it.
Because, deep inside where she supposed most people never wanted to look at themselves, she didn’t regret any of it. She’d fallen for David. Yet she didn’t regret climbing into Kye’s bed when she thought David was past tense in her life.
If only Georgie were here to talk with. Far from being unable to feel too little for a man, she was suddenly brimming with so many emotions she couldn’t sort them out. As much as she liked David, it took only a kiss from Kye to plunge her back a dozen years and an emotional lifetime ago to when she believed she was in love.
The rush of self-knowledge that she could feel this way surprised and exhilarated her. But was it real?
She took a step toward him, but the heightened wariness in his gaze stopped her short. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Kye. About everything. Law and I should never have brought you into this. This isn’t your fight.”
He blinked, seemingly surprised by her words. “That doesn’t matter. I’m staying with you until this is over. And, just so you know, I don’t like losing.”
She nodded, touched by words that weren’t exactly lover-like but so Kye. “Your poor face.”
He looked down at his shirt, which was soaked with his blood. Wincing, he grabbed the back of it and pulled it up. “Do you think you can get some tape on my nose that will stop some of the bleeding? My face hurts like a sumbitch.”
She nodded, mouth going a little dry as his muscle-molded abs then pecs came into view. By the time his shoulders were on display she couldn’t have spit if her life depended on it. She averted her eyes. “I’ll get my first-aid kit.”
“Hold up.” She turned back as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a white wife-beater. Hate the name. Just hate it. But it looked, yeah, really good on him as he tugged it down over his too-tempting male torso.
He came toward her, hands going out to frame her shoulders. “I’m going to protect you, Yard. I promise. To do that, we need to get Gunnar to a hospital and law enforcement on our side. Where’s Purdy’s gun?”
She pulled it out of a pocket of her cargo pants.
He looked at it, noting the cartridge was full. “You have a gun?”
“I have K-9 protection.” She glanced down at Oleg, who was practically sitting on her boots. “What do I need a gun for?”
“To protect both of you. You do own one?”
“Of course. But I don’t like guns.”
“You don’t have to make out with it. How many do you have in the house?”
“One. Handgun.”
“Ammo?”
“Somewhere.”
“Seriously?”
“I work with dogs. Oleg can protect me from anyone breaking in.”
“Oleg can’t take down a bullet.” He held up Purdy’s gun as exhibit A.
Yardley folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think I could shoot someone.”
Kye gave her a shrewd look. “You tried to take out Stokes with a hammer.”
“That was different. I wasn’t trying to kill him. Just make him stop.”
“Purdy already shot Dr. Gunnar. If he’d been hurting your doctor friend or Oleg and you’d been armed, you don’t think you’d have used it?”
“Maybe. The butt end. To save them.” She stared at him before giving in to the most reluctant shrug he’d ever seen. “Or you.”
Kye went still. She didn’t have to say that. But she was looking at him in a way that, for a few seconds, took away the pain of his face. He mattered to her.
The moment spun on, gone as quickly as it was captured, as she spoke again. “But I’d rather not have that option.”
“At least you’re honest.” He shrugged. “Get your gun.”
“After what I just said?”
“It’s for the doc. And to be clear, it works better with bullets. So find them.”