Myrna Mackenzie - Her Sweet Talkin' Man

“You don’t want to touch a lady who hasn’t invited you,” Ace said, his voice low and cold. “That’s not exactly the way to win points with a woman. It’s definitely not a gentlemanly thing to do, now is it?”

Branson swore and tried to wrest his arm free. “She’s not exactly a lady in my book.”

Ace spun Branson around, shoving him up against a tree, his arm lodged against Branson’s windpipe, leaving him barely enough air to breathe, judging by Branson’s choked gurgling. “Then maybe you’ve been reading the wrong book, buddy. Now, I’m going to ease up on you real slow, and I want you to tell the lady you’re sorry you touched her, that you’re sorry you even dared to come near her.”

Ace eased the pressure on Branson’s throat, and the man muttered an even fouler word. He tried to break free.

With barely a shrug, Ace slammed Branson up against the tree again, hard enough to send a few leaves fluttering to the ground. “Let’s try this again, shall we, buddy?” he said, leaning in to apply more pressure. “You want to reconsider that apology?”

Crystal didn’t want an apology from Branson. She just wanted him gone. But there was such steel in Ace’s voice and he was so focused on what he was doing that she didn’t want to distract him for fear Branson would pull free and strike out, catching Ace off guard.

“I’m really starting to lose patience with your lack of good manners. You ready with that apology yet, pal?” Ace asked.

Branson raised dark, hate-filled eyes to Crystal. “Sorry,” he said, the word clipped and barely audible.

She gave him a curt nod just as a security guard approached. “Thanks, man. We’ll take him off your hands,” he told Ace. “Ms. Fiona saw that something was happening and sent us over, Ms. Bennett. We’ll get him out of here right away,” he promised.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

But her words were nearly drowned out by Branson’s sudden shouting as the security guard removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

“You tramp, Crystal, you’re gonna pay for this. I know how you operate. I know who and what you are. You’re a backstabber. You promise things and then don’t deliver. But I know that, and I’ll be back. I’ll be lookin’ for you. You and your kind took something I wanted. Now maybe I’ll take something you want, and I do know what means the most to you. Don’t think I don’t.”

His words were spewed out, dark and ominous. He lunged furiously, nearly dragging to the ground the security guard, who had only Branson’s right wrist cuffed. Finally another security guard grabbed Branson’s other arm, and together they cuffed his hands behind his back and pulled him from the area.

The silence that followed was like a thick choking smoke. Crystal’s heart was beating frantically. What had he meant? What was he going to do?

She surprised herself by raising her gaze to Ace as if just looking at him could calm her. He was standing nearer than she’d expected. When her eyes met his, he moved closer and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Go ahead. Lean on me,” he whispered, then looked up at the small crowd who’d gathered.

“I tell you, some people just shouldn’t even go to parties,” he said, addressing the group. “That one there looks like he started drinking early and needs to sleep it off. I guess he just didn’t like it when Ms. Bennett suggested he leave and get some rest. But it was a pretty good demonstration of the security at Mission Creek Memorial, though, wasn’t it? You can all rest easy knowing you’ll always be safe here. Makes you feel good seeing this hospital is on the job protecting the people staying here, doesn’t it?” He smiled reassuringly on that last note, and everyone began to murmur among themselves and drift away. One or two of them gave Crystal a worried look, but somehow she managed to follow Ace’s lead and paste on a smile. In spite of the fact that her heart was still hammering.

Slowly, almost without her noticing it, Ace walked her into the deeper shelter of some trees where some small benches were positioned. He eased her down on one, and she realized that her legs had been a bit shaky and she’d been leaning on Ace, an almost total stranger.

She glanced up at him, wondering what he really thought about what had happened back there. Especially since she herself wasn’t quite sure what had happened. She hadn’t seen Branson in years.

But Ace’s expression was unreadable. He bore no sign of his struggle with Branson other than one disheveled lock of black hair. He looked like a man who was used to fighting and didn’t let it bother him. It bothered her that he had been forced to come to her rescue.

“I seem to be causing you a great deal of trouble today,” she said.

He ignored her concerned tone and gave her a slow sexy grin. “Don’t apologize. I’m rather partial to trouble. Been in the thick of it all my life.”

She gulped at the look in his eyes. It was the look a man gives a woman who interests him, at least physically. Her pulse began to trip over itself. This just wouldn’t do. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him amazingly attractive. She did, and more than that, she was grateful for his help and his kind attention, more grateful than she could say. But he was obviously the worst kind of man. The kind that flipped through women like the pages of a magazine. The kind she never went near, not anymore.

“Well, then, all I can say is thank you for your help. I’m indebted to you,” she said. “If I can ever repay you…” She hoped that didn’t sound as bad to him as it did to her.

He shook his head. “For what? I told you, I welcome trouble.”

Oh, she’d just bet he did. She’d bet he caused it, too. Which meant the only smart thing for her to do now was to get as far away as possible from the attraction he held for her. “Thank you, anyway,” she said. “But I guess I should get back and make sure everything is running smoothly.”

He nodded, but the long look he gave her held her as immobile as Branson’s death grip. “You want to tell me what that was all about back there?”

Crystal blinked. No, she didn’t want to talk about what had happened with Branson. She didn’t want to talk about it or even think about it. But Ace stood there waiting, his blue eyes studying her, his stance loose, almost relaxed.

As if he could wait forever for her to speak.

“I don’t exactly know,” she finally confessed. “Years ago, when I was in high school, I dated Branson. He seemed like a quiet shy boy at first. After we’d gone out once or twice, though, he…well, I could tell that he wasn’t always operating under the same rules as the rest of the world. Little things upset him a lot more than they did most people. He would get unreasonably angry if he forgot his textbook at home, angry enough to throw things. If I didn’t say ‘Goodbye, Branson,’ instead of just ‘Goodbye,’ he would rant and rave. After just two dates I told him that I didn’t think I was right for him and that he should find someone else.”

She stared into Ace’s eyes. She was embarrassed, and her first instinct was to look down, but she’d done enough of that in her life and so she forced herself to hold his gaze.

Instead, he was the one to glance down. Just once. Just a quick look. She realized she was twisting her hands together. So much for appearing poised and calm.

“I take it Branson wasn’t exactly happy with your decision.”

She wasn’t sure she could say the next part. She wasn’t sure why she was even considering saying anything, but there was something very compelling about Ace’s unreadable expression. It was the sort of expression a cop might wear. Just the facts, ma’am, he seemed to be saying. And she realized she’d never really told anyone about what had happened between her and Branson. Maybe because all of them thought they already knew and no one wanted to talk about it.