Susan Stephens

Untamed Bachelors


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wait until she’d arrived? He’d go inform her himself. That way he could drive her here if she was running late.

      A short time later he parked and stared up at her sorry-looking apartment building. Daylight showed the dull facade in all its unspectacular glory. Grey peeling paintwork. Dusty windows.

      He climbed out of his car and walked to the door. In this instance he was relieved it wasn’t a coded entry—except that anyone could walk in off the street. He took the stairs two at a time and followed a dingy passage until he found apartment number four, then knocked on the door.

      No answer. Impatience snapped at him; he barely waited before knocking again, louder, longer. ‘Ellie, are you in there?’

      A scruffy-looking sort in a grey hooded jacket with straggly blond hair and teenage fuzz above his upper lip exited an apartment down the hall. Mid- to late teens, Matt figured. The odour of sweat and dirty sneakers preceded the guy as he approached.

      Matt’s nostrils flared in distaste. But Ellie had no choice; she couldn’t afford anything better. Matt understood that all too well.

      ‘She ain’t left yet,’ Scruffy said as he passed Matt.

      He studied the youth through narrowed eyes. ‘And you’d know this how?’

      Scruffy popped a wad of chewing gum in his mouth. ‘See everyone from my living room window. You dropped her off last night. Night before too. Black Ford, right?’

      A twinge of concern jolted through Matt. ‘Do you watch everyone’s comings and goings?’

      ‘Pretty much,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Ain’t safe round here. It’s just me and Mum, and she’s in a wheelchair, so I keep an eye out.’

      ‘And you are?’

      ‘Toby.’ He stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. ‘You Ellie’s new boyfriend?’

      ‘I’m…Yes,’ Matt decided. One could never be too careful and any woman living alone was always a potential target, even if Toby seemed harmless enough. ‘My name’s Matt. I’ll see you around.’

      ‘Okay. See ya.’ Toby hunched into his hoodie and headed to the stairwell.

      Matt resumed knocking. ‘Ellie, I know you’re in there. Answer the door.’ Finally he heard a muffled sound and the door cracked open. Her face was only partially visible and what he could see didn’t look good.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ She sniffed, dug a tissue from the pocket of her dressing gown, held it to her nose.

      No wonder she hadn’t turned up. ‘You’re ill,’ he said unnecessarily. ‘You should have phoned me.’ He pushed the door wider, took in the dark circles beneath her glassy eyes before closing the door behind him.

      ‘Why?’ She turned away and headed over the worn linoleum floor towards her bed. She wore flannelette pyjamas under her robe, he noticed, and fluffy pink slippers.

      ‘To let me know you weren’t coming in…’ His voice was tight and clipped to his own ears. He saw the way her shoulders drooped and softened it with, ‘To let me know if you need anything.’ He glanced about him at the tiny studio apartment. The place was basic at best. And colder than an antarctic winter.

      ‘On my day off?’

      ‘Your day off?’

      ‘I don’t work Thursdays. I told you that at our interview.’ Stepping out of her slippers, she crawled onto the bed, dragging the covers over her. ‘So, if there’s nothing else…Pull the door shut behind you on your way out.’

      Even with his jacket on, his skin goose-bumped beneath his cashmere jumper. ‘Don’t you have heating?’

      ‘It’s broken down,’ she mumbled.

      ‘I can’t leave you here like this.’

      ‘Sure you can. Don’t you have appointments to keep? Five-star hotels to frequent?’ A hand appeared from beneath the quilt to grab another tissue.

      Five-star hotels? ‘What are you talking about?’ He crossed the room, stared down at her, shook his questions away. ‘Forget appointments, forget work. You shouldn’t be on your own and this place is an icebox. You’re coming home with me.’

      ‘No.’ HER reply was razor sharp.

      ‘I don’t want to argue with you, Ellie.’

      ‘Good.’ A beat of silence. ‘I’m better off here. If I can sleep it off today, I’ll be right for work tomorrow.’

      He lowered himself to the edge of the bed, his shoe skittering against something as he sat. He looked down…

      His business card. Crumpled. By one very tight, very deliberate fist, if he guessed correctly. He picked it up, lowered the quilt so he could see her face and waved it in front of her. ‘I must’ve made a good impression Saturday night.’

      Her eyes flicked open, then widened as she realised. ‘Oh.’ She blinked up at him. ‘How did that get there?’

      He felt a corner of his mouth tip up. ‘You didn’t throw it out.’ He smoothed it out, tapped it against his chin. ‘This tells me something, Ellie.’

      Her eyes slid shut again. ‘It tells you I’m environmentally aware, that I was waiting for the paper recycling day to come round.’

      ‘Yeah. Right.’ He slipped it beneath her pillow with a smile she didn’t see.

      He glanced about the apartment. Her fridge was covered in kids’ paintings held in place by frog magnets. ‘Whose artwork?’

      ‘I volunteer at a homework centre for disadvantaged kids,’ she mumbled into her pillow.

      A volunteer? She was more than he’d given her credit for and something deeper stirred inside him. Willing the somewhat disturbing feeling away, his gaze landed on a small but familiar figurine on the scarred night stand.

      He looked back at Ellie, her eyelashes resting on pale cheeks, then picked it up, rolled it between his palms. ‘Where did you get this?’

      Her eyes opened halfway. ‘Belle gave it to me. She said everyone needs a guardian angel.’

      Matt knew it wasn’t a simple trinket. It was one of a kind, according to Belle. She’d bought it in Venice a few years back and paid a fortune in tourist dollars for it. Did Ellie know its true value?

      He folded the quilt back and tucked the edge beneath her chin. ‘Guardian angels won’t cut it today. You can sleep in Belle’s guest room.’

      ‘No.’

      He tightened his jaw. ‘I can carry you downstairs in your pyjamas and put you in the car myself or you can get dressed first—your choice. But you’re coming with me in five minutes.’

      ‘I’m staying here. I’m going to try to sleep. Here. Thanks for your offer, now go away.’

      He pushed up. So be it. He found an empty supermarket bag, then scouted the room for something she could wear later—a black tracksuit sprawled over a chair and a pair of sneakers with socks spilling out nearby. ‘Four minutes.’ He opened drawers till he found underwear.

      Behind him, he heard her gasp. ‘You are so not touching my—’

      ‘Think again, honey.’ He pulled out a filmy white bra and panties, tossed them in the bag. Added a pair of socks.

      Ellie’s eyes narrowed to slits as she watched Matt’s broad-shouldered shape disappear into her tiny bathroom. Her heart thudded erratically against the mattress. She pushed the tissue against her lips to prevent a whimper when she heard the clatter of bottles being scooped up. Squeezing her