Sommersgate House (Ghosts and Reincarnation #2)(73)

“It’s a f**king gunshot wound!” she shouted.

“Calm yourself!” Douglas roared in a voice she’d never heard before. He reared up and then gritted his teeth in pain and Julia stepped back, partially in fear, partially in surprise.

She’d seen his face of thunder and been awed and, maybe, a little thrilled by it. But that roar was something else. It was the roar of a man that expected to be obeyed, who was entitled to be obeyed and who didn’t, wouldn’t, maybe even couldn’t abide it when he wasn’t. It was his right, not only by birth and by accumulation but also because, she sensed, he’d earned it.

She took a deep breath and considered his ridiculous command to calm herself when he was lying on her bed bleeding from a gunshot wound. Regardless of his title, station or whatever else, she decided to ignore it. And it took every ounce of courage she possessed because this man, who could go from bland and unmoved to seductive lover to roaring aristocrat to dangerous, predatory deity, scared the living daylights out of her.

Still, none of that changed the fact that Douglas was bleeding from a gunshot wound on her bed.

“Nick, go get the whisky from his study and the first aid kit that’s in the kitchen,” Julia ordered and when Nick didn’t move she whirled on him. “Go!”

Nick glanced at Douglas who obviously gave him the go ahead because Nick left the room.

“Lay back, relax, when he gets back, I’ll, well, I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll figure out something,” she told Douglas.

Douglas was watching her and she watched him right back, steeling herself against his glittering, intense eyes whose depths she couldn’t read.

Obviously unable to win one of his staring contests, she finally asked, “Are you in pain?”

“Not when I don’t move.”

“Then don’t move.”

“Good advice.”

Julia stopped staring at him and started glaring at him and Douglas just accepted her glare. Nick arrived back and just to do something, she grabbed the whisky decanter and gave it to Douglas.

“Drink,” Julia commanded and Douglas gratefully lifted the decanter to his lips.

“Doesn’t alcohol thin the blood?” Nick asked.

Like lightning, Julia jumped forward and snatched the decanter from Douglas’s grasp.

“Get her out of here, Nick, before I kill her,” Douglas said through gritted teeth, his angry eyes gleaming darkly at her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Julia boldly declared and cut her eyes to Nick who was advancing on her. “You touch me, I’ll scream bloody murder. Just try me.”

Nick stopped.

Douglas sighed.

“I’m cleaning the wound,” Julia announced into the void.

“Well, Doug, that sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it?” Nick asked, sounding like he was trying to placate a wounded beast so he could draw out a thorn. She’d never heard anyone but Tamsin call him Doug and she wondered who this Nick character was. He looked rough and, regardless of his height, he looked like a man you wouldn’t mess with. Lastly, he was also obviously trusted implicitly by Douglas.

Douglas didn’t reply.

She searched through the first aid kit and found only minuscule cleansing wipes that were smaller by half than your average handi-wipe.

“What,” she turned slowly and showed the wipe to the men, “am I supposed to do with this?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to the kit, rifling through it. “Don’t you have any rubbing alcohol, any hydrogen peroxide? This kit is a joke.”

“She’s trying to kill me, Nick. She wants me dead so she can take the children back to America.”

Julia whirled around “Rubbing alcohol won’t kill…” but she stopped when Douglas’s head shot up.

“Doctor,” Douglas muttered and Nick immediately left the room to fetch the doctor.

Julia and Douglas surveyed each other like opponents on a battlefield.

Julia broke the silence. “Douglas, is there something you want to share with me?”

“Not now, Julia.”

“I’ll tell you something for nothing,” she said, her anger taking over her nerves and making her lapse into the Midwestern twang her mother tried for years to breed out of them. “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”

To her shock, her idiotic threat made him grin. What he thought was worth grinning about in this grim situation, she could not imagine. Furthermore, she had to steal herself against just how devilishly sexy his damn grins made him, gunshot wounds or not. Before she could respond to the wickedly handsome look on his face, the doctor was at the door.

Julia watched as he inspected the wound then looked up and spoke to Nick and Julia.

“One of you stay to help me, the other one, leave us.”

“I’ll do it,” Julia immediately offered.

“No!” both Douglas and Nick shouted.

“You’re outvoted, luv,” the doctor said kindly and Julia, without a fight so the doctor could see to Douglas without delay, left.

Instead of going toward the house, where the kids might hear or see her, she went to the chapel.

The chapel, as it was unused nearly all the time, was unheated. She hadn’t put on her robe or slippers and only had on a pair of thin, knit, mint green, drawstring pyjama bottoms and matching lace-trimmed camisole.