Zoey 101: An Unexpected Encounter

Chapter 10

Fear pummeled into him like angry fists as he spotted Zoey lying at the foot of the porch steps. Chase ran toward her, instantly sinking to the wet grass and cupping her face with his hands. "Where are you hurt?" he said frantically.

A streak of gold flashed in his peripheral vision, and suddenly Rocky was beside him, shoving his wet nose against Zoey’s shoulder. Chase pushed the dog away and repeated his question. "Where are you hurt?"

"It’s my—"

Not letting her finish, he ran his hands up and down her body, searching for the wound. "Were you shot? Was it Kuyper?" he choked out. "Damn it, Zoey, where are you hurt?"

Her hand curled over his wrist, nails digging into his skin. "For Pete’s sake, Chase, calm down!" she snapped. "It’s my ankle. I slipped on the last step and fell."

Relief smashed into him. "You fell," he echoed dully.

"Yes. Now can we go inside before this rain washes both of us away?"

For the first time since he’d come outside in a panic, he noticed the downpour rushing from the sky. Zoey was soaked, her blonde hair matted against her forehead as raindrops rolled down her cheeks.

"Let me help you up," he sighed, reaching for her arm.

She pushed away his hand. "I’m fine. I can get up on my own."

He wanted to lift her into his arms and carry her into the house, but the determined set of her jaw told him she’d hit him before letting him touch her. With another sigh, he stood up and crossed his arms, letting the cold rain wash over him.

"All right, get up."

He saw her features crease with pain as she slowly got to her feet. Mud streaked across her faded blue jeans, and he almost smiled at the sight of her disheveled appearance. The smile never came, though, as he watched her take one step forward before crumpling like a rag doll.

He caught her before she fell, and held her steady. "Now can I help you up?"

Her eyes darkened before taking on a resigned light. "Yes."

Without another word, he placed a hand on her back, grasped her round bottom with the other and scooped her into his arms.

To her credit, she didn’t protest the entire time as he carried her into the house, kicked off his muddy shoes and took her into the living room.

He gently put her down on the plump beige sofa, then sat next to her and stared at the wet Blondhead, wanting so badly to kiss her again.

"Which ankle?" he asked quietly.

She sighed. "The left one. But it doesn’t hurt that much."

Irked by her continued insistence to pretend she was okay, he rolled up the hem of her pant leg and examined her ankle. It didn’t seem bad at first, not until he glanced at her other leg and saw the enormous difference. Her left ankle had swollen up to twice the size of her right one, and a nasty blue bruise already began to dot her skin.

He stifled a groan. "Let me see if it’s broken."

"It’s not—"

He didn’t let her finish as he lowered his hand to her leg. He gently ran his fingers over her tender skin, applying pressure against the bone. She winced, but didn’t make a sound. That was Zoey all right, strong as hell.

After he’d examined her ankle, he met her gaze. "I think it’s just a sprain."

Triumph lit her eyes. "See, I told you. I’m fine. Now go call the other bodyguard."

His heart squeezed. He hated that she was so determined to see him leave. But he knew she was right. Staying was not a good idea. They’d only been together a couple of hours and he’d ended up kissing her. Who knew what would happen if he stayed even longer?

But what would happen if he left? If that bastard Kuyper managed to get his hands on her?

Chase couldn’t bring himself to get up, the notion of calling someone else to protect Zoey sending a knot of pain to his gut. He swept his gaze over her, studying the two smudges of mud on her cheeks, her soaked clothing, disheveled hair—and he decided he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

He also decided that for the moment, he wasn’t going anywhere.

"I’ll call Nathan in the morning," Chase said, squaring his shoulders in resolve.

Zoey glanced at him in surprise. "You’re going to spend the night?"

"Yes, and don’t bother arguing. Until Kuyper is caught, you’re in danger, which means no arguments about your safety." He rose from the couch, his jaw tight, and lifted her back into his arms.

"Where are you taking me?" she squeaked.

"Upstairs."

"Why?"

"You’re covered in mud," he said roughly. "I’m going to run a bath for you."