Chapter Seventeen

Les kept himself busy cutting little squares of gauze, refusing to think about her naked in the shower. She was all strength, grace, and fire. A woman like that was a deadly combination to a man's sanity. He listened to the water cut off, and he wondered if she'd found everything she needed. He thought about knocking on the door, but forced himself to finish the task at hand.

A few minutes clicked by and the door snicked open. She stood in the doorway for a moment. He sensed her hesitation and forced himself to keep his back turned to her, his hands busy snipping the gauze into perfect one-inch squares.

A moment passed, and she came and stood beside him. She was wrapped in a towel and had run a comb through her wet hair. His nostrils flared, and he inhaled the scent that danced and fluttered around her like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Whatever shampoo or body wash she had used reminded him of passion and desire. It smelled like a vibrant woman. The sweet scent of Turkish rose underscored with something earthier, more seductive. It took his mind places it had no business going. He could imagine that scent lingering on his sheets. The scissors dropped from his fingers with a clatter, yanking his brain out of the danger zone.

"What's all that?" she pointed to the little squares of gauze on the table.

"For your burns. Have a seat." Les managed to say without his voice cracking. He thought it might just be his lucky day.

Ashley complied. Her long legs stretched in front of her. Her toes were painted a bright cherry red, which seemed so cheery and out of place. Les cleared his throat to cover the fact it was entirely possible he'd lost his damn mind. He pretended he didn't notice her towel barely covered anything or her eyes were tracking his every move. He meticulously dressed each burn until her chest was covered in little gauze spots. It reminded him of a fawn.

His eyes cut to hers. Her heart was beating like a frightened rabbit. He could feel its rapid thumping as he tended to the burns. His gaze dropped momentarily to those rosy plump lips, and he watched them part ever so slightly in a silent invitation. A flush swept across her skin and she leaned forward, bringing them closer. Les' heart gave a wild stutter that might have killed a lesser man.

Her gaze held his and her eyes turned a deeper, richer blue. Les hadn't realized blue eyes could burn like fire until this very second, and he was pretty sure they'd burned right into his soul. Even the air around them felt heavy with confusion and indecision. She leaned a little closer, her breathing softer and quicker as it gently caressed his cheek. He watched paralyzed as her fingers reached up and traced his temple and along his jaw. Her soft fingers skimmed along his skin like a feather. Tickling and enticing as they explored the contours of his face. He knew with terrifying certainty she was going to kiss him, and as much as he desperately wanted her to, it wasn't the right time. Not when she was vulnerable. Les captured her hand and placed a kiss in her palm, breaking the force field that held them both immobile, and eased back from her.

The flush on her cheeks turned crimson, and she quickly averted her eyes, suddenly becoming fascinated with the carpet. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her or make her think he saw her differently because of what she had been through, even though he knew what happened invaded the space around them and colored every interaction. She was amazing, perfect, and desirable, and he was paralyzed with guilt. Les didn't want to take away her power, he wanted her to take control. He refused to treat her like some broken bird that couldn't make her own decisions. He didn't pity her and he never wanted her to believe that even for a second, yet he was terrified he would make things worse.

His own thoughts about her fucked with his head. She was the most fascinating woman he had met in a long time, but he felt guilty that he saw her as a woman. Wasn't that the definition of rendering her a powerless victim? He pushed her away because Les thought he knew what she needed better than she did. He really wanted to just whack his head on the table, it would be far less painful.

How did you ever balance that without being patronizing? Who she touched and how she was touched was her choice, but he had taken that choice from her right along with her self-esteem. The very definition of coddling and stripping someone of their power. Les knew enough about survivors to know every recovery was unique, and only a jackass would judge how someone else dealt with a trauma. The only common denominator, they were in charge. Some needed contact with people they trusted, others didn't. Les realized the silence between them was starting to resemble the Grand Canyon. Despite his good intentions he'd embarrassed her, hurt her, made her think she was a freak. And now Les was officially a world class bastard.

"Some of these might scar, but I think most of them will heal up nicely."

His voice was strained and a good octave higher than usual. He realized he was probably babbling, so he snapped his mouth shut with a clack of his teeth, willing himself not to say anything stupid. It was far too late for the not doing something stupid part.

When he finished, he sat back on his haunches and reached for the backpack. He pulled out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and handed them to her. He'd gotten them off of Stephanie. Ashley looked a fair amount like Stephanie in the face. She had the same big blue eyes that reminded him of a cloudless spring day, a small, straight nose, and a generous mouth, but that's where the similarities ended. Ashley's hair was more wavy than curly and she was a little shorter and a lot curvier than Stephanie. Still, he figured the sweats would be forgiving enough to fit. At least he hoped they were, because that's all he had. If she sat around in that towel any longer, he was probably going to hurl himself over the railing of the boat. Apparently, he could not be trusted. He couldn't believe he'd almost kissed her. What was he thinking? He wasn't that was crystal clear.

When she saw the sweats, her eyes lit up and Ashley threw her arms around Les' neck, startling them both. She gave a nervous laugh and pulled him in for a quick hug. When she pulled back, tears shimmered in her eyes.

"You got me pants." She smiled through the tears.

"Yes ma'am, I always keep my promises." He gave her a wink.

"Thank you." Her bottom lip trembled and Les' heart gave a little tug. He wanted to reach out and stroke his thumb over it and take away anything that ever made her sad.

There was something about this woman that got to him. Her dignity, her innocence, called to him. Her excitement over a pair of sweats sliced at his defenses. She wormed her way right under his tough, scaly exterior and now she had infected his blood. He wanted to hear her laugh. Like really laugh, a big deep belly laugh. He wanted her tears to come from joy, not sadness.

What the fuck was he thinking. He pulled away from her so quickly he almost toppled them both. He hated the look of confusion and hurt that passed over her face, but this was not happening.

"Get dressed." His voice came out way harsher than he intended.

She narrowed her eyes at him for a second and then snatched the t-shirt out of his hand. Les turned his back while Ashley pulled on the clothes.

"All done." She said. Her voice soft, the joy immediately gone.

Yep, he'd done that. Robbed her of a minute of normalcy because that's what he was. A world class jackass. It wasn't her fault he couldn't think with the head on his shoulders around her. She needed time, space, distance. Ashley needed to heal and process what happened. She didn't need him confusing her. Maybe there was something between them, maybe there wasn't. The only thing Les knew was that question would never be answered. The timing was bad, the circumstances were bad. Whatever it might have been, never had a chance.

When he turned back around, he was really glad she hadn't said all decent because the sweats fit like a glove showcasing her perfect heart-shaped ass, and the t-shirt stretched tight over her generous breasts. She was enchanting, gorgeous, and perfect. Fire already hummed through his veins and now this vision was burned in his brain.

How she could look that good in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt was a mystery. A sure sign he'd lost his damn mind a few stops back on the crazy train. He pulled in a harsh breath. Think with your brain, not your dick, Santos, he told himself. She'd been through a lot. Ashley needed time. What she didn't need was Les.

He handed her a pair of flip flops. "Best I could do." He mumbled by way of apology.

They stood staring at each other for a minute, the silence between them adding to the awkwardness and the weird awareness pulsing between them.

Les reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension that had been building.

"You hungry?" He finally asked.

"Very." She confirmed.

"OK, let me see what I can find."

Les rummaged around. "Beef jerky or protein bar?"

He held them up for her inspection. She eyed them with equal amounts of disinterest.

"Jerky." She finally said, surprising Les, his money had been on the protein bar. Then again, she'd surprised him at every turn. He wasn't sure why this should be any different.

She ate mostly in silence, chewing and swallowing mechanically. She washed the jerky down with water. Les couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to have dinner with her as he watched her throat work as she swallowed. Just the two of them. Would they have anything to talk about? Any common ground? Would she like pizza and beer or was she more champagne and caviar? For the hundredth time, he wished he knew more about her, but then again, maybe it was better this way. Knowing might ruin the fantasy. Then again, it might make her unforgettable.

The fatigue and the pain meds pulled at her, and she stifled a yawn. Exhaustion bracketed her mouth and her movements were clumsy. She was skirting along the edge, teetering on the brink of collapse.

Les sat on the bench and patted the space beside him. "Get some rest. We have a few hours before we get to Dresden."

He saw a momentary flash of fear in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Don't worry. I'll watch over you." He assured her.

The tension eased out of her shoulders and she sat next to him, giving him plenty of space. She eased down on the bench on her side, tucking her hands under head, trying to find a comfortable position.

Les let out a frustrated sigh. His internal war didn't need to be hers. He moved closer to her, angling her body so her head rested on his thigh like a pillow.

"Is that better?" He asked.

"Mmm, yes. Thanks." Her eyes had already drifted closed, her voice husky with sleep.

Les stroked her hair until she fell asleep. It felt like spun silk under his fingertips. On one hand, the feel of it calmed him, on the other it caused his gut to clench and flip. A thousand thoughts marched through his head telling him this was a bad damn idea. He'd already crossed lines, but it was still recoverable. They had done nothing that was irrevocable. Thank god, he hadn't kissed her. It was better to spend his whole life wondering what she might taste like than to know and have her hate him for it later. She was vulnerable and confused, and while she might think in this moment, she wanted to kiss him, she would regret it later. When things returned to normal, he didn't want her to think back on this and hate herself for slumming it, and let's face it. That's what she would be doing with the likes of him.

Luca found them a couple of hours later when he came below deck. His gaze drifted over them, taking in the scene. Les waited for the disapproval, but it never came.

"We're docking in fifteen." Luca kept his voice low. "How is she?"

Les looked down at the woman that was resting next to him, using his thigh as her own personal pillow.

"She'll be OK."

Luca nodded and headed topside. Les watched him go. Luca was a hard read. He didn't give Les the same evil eye Jack had given him, and there was nothing judgmental in his tone. He seemed to understand and accept this was what Ashley needed right now, what they both needed.

Luca was a man of few words, but what he did say spoke volumes. Les liked Luca, even though he knew he shouldn't. That whole family loyalty thing was always a tricky one. There was definitely something going on between Luca and Steph, even if he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Ranger had it bad for Steph, and Les didn't want to see Ranger hurt or Luca, for that matter. Over the years, Ranger had dated a lot of women, but he'd never seen him act the way he did with Steph. At the time, he didn't understand it. After meeting Ashley, he was beginning to, and that just terrified him. Ashley was getting on that plane and he would never see her again, and that was just that. There were no romantic dinners or sleigh rides in their future and the quicker he got that through his thick skull, the better.

As much as Ranger might want something to work out with Steph, Les was a little skeptical. She was closed off and maybe even a little prickly when it came to relationships. He got it. He recognized that look. She had lost someone close to her, and she was terrified of ever feeling that kind of pain or loss again. She kept everyone at arm's length, including Luca. The fact that Ranger had slipped past her well-constructed walls scared the shit out of her, and Les' money was on her to run. Ranger was a patient man, but even he might not be able to break down the barriers. It was even money whether Ranger got the girl or got his heart broken.

Les gave Ashley a gentle shake.

"Come on angel, I need you to wake up. We're here." Why was it that every minute they got closer to putting her on that plane, the more Les felt like he wanted to puke?

Her eyes popped open; confusion swam in them for an instant before she recognized where she was. Ashley sat up slowly, mindful of her bruised ribs.

She made a futile attempt to finger comb her hair into some semblance of control. It was a wild tumble around her face, but did nothing to detract from her perfect porcelain features. The grayish cast to her skin was gone, and she looked brighter. Her eyes were clear and reminded him of sapphires. Ashley was absolutely breathtaking. At least she'd robbed him of his. Les couldn't breathe when he looked at her. The thought of never seeing her hurt too much.

"Wow, sorry. I've been out the whole time?" She asked, giving him a sheepish grin.

Les gave her a tight smile as he got up. "You needed the rest." He said in his most professional voice. He needed distance. They both did. The smile slipped from her face.

He didn't miss the fact her eyes were fixed on the sliver of skin that showed between his pants and the hem of his shirt as he stretched his arms over his head, working out the kinks from sitting statue still for two hours so he didn't wake her.

When she caught him watching her, pink spots appeared on her cheeks and she glanced away, but not before she licked those amazing lips, sending a bolt of lightning right through him.

His traitorous body took notice and Les stifled a groan, but barely. Les would have said he had a decent amount of self-control, but this night had dissuaded him of that notion. He was acting like a school boy on prom night. He was twitchy and on a hair trigger. It was not a good look for a grown ass man. He forced his limbs to remain loose, his stance casual even though the nerves in his body were pulled like overstretched wire.

Ashley slipped into the flip flops and Les handed her the windbreaker.

"Here, take this, it's cold out."

"What about you?" She asked. Somehow, at least in his mind, she wasn't just asking about the cold.

"I'm good." Les assured her. Now, if that were only true, he would be cooking with gas.

He helped her into the jacket and she pulled it around her, hugging it close.

She followed him topside, tipping her head to the sky and taking in a lungful of fresh, crisp air. Luca had just finished tying off, and Ashley approached Luca.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I snapped at you and you didn't deserve it. I've had a bad few days." She gave a self-depreciating humorless laugh at the understatement of those words. "I hope you can forgive me. I'm very grateful to all of you for what you did."

Luca inclined his head towards her. "Thank you, but there is nothing to forgive. I'm very sorry this happened to you, but you're going to get through it and you will be OK."

There was enough conviction in Luca's tone that even Les believed him. It was pretty clear Luca was speaking from experience.

They piled into a waiting car and made quick time to the airstrip, no one talking. Jack, Luca and Les scanned for tails as they drove. Ashley stared straight ahead, clutching the windbreaker like armor.

As they passed through the gates, Les spotted an all-black gulf stream on the tarmac. The only thing that wasn't black was the tail number, which Les would bet money was fake. It was Nikko's jet, and Les had a vague thought it suited his personality. Les had done some digging into Nikko and turned up exactly nothing. Nikko was a ghost. A man with a thousand last names, a dozen birth dates, and not a single known address. Other than rumors or legend, none of his contacts knew anything. It made him uneasy.

Neither the Praetorian nor the RangeMan jet was there yet, but Les hoped they would be soon, or he might freeze his ass off. Of course, nature's version of a cold shower might be just what he needed to get his head on straight. The faster they got airborne, the quicker he could put this whole thing behind him. Les needed food, a shower, and some sleep. Maybe a lobotomy.

Nikko was waiting for them when they pulled up. The sun was just coming up over the horizon and cast long shadows on the airfield. The rosy glow created an eerie back drop. Nikko looked scary on a good day. Now it just looked like hell was on fire behind him and he was coming out of the flames. It felt a little too much like he was sacrificing his angel to the devil. Les gave a little shake of his head to clear that visual.

This was it. Les' responsibility for Ashley and this operation ended when she boarded that plane. He had no idea why that thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. This is where he should be looking forward to getting home to a beer and a willing woman, but something about that just felt hollow.

Les pushed the thought aside. It was just exhaustion talking. Tomorrow, everything would be fine. Les planned to tell himself that every day until he believed it and someday he would. He had to.

He could feel the tension coming off of Ashley in waves and she instinctively tucked closer to him as Nikko strode closer. Nikko looked an awful lot like a panther about to devour its prey as he prowled towards them. Even the hair on Les' neck stood-up.

Ashley's fingers brushed his, sending a tingle up his spine, and warmth flushed across his chest and up his neck. When she hooked her pinky finger with his, Les thought his knees might buckle.

Nikko stopped in front of her, giving Ashley plenty of distance. "Let's get you home, Ms. Ryan."

Ashley swung to Les, panic evident on her face, her eyes wide darting between Les and Nikko. "You're not coming with us?" Her voice was strained and cracked just a little.

Everything in Les' being made him want to say yes, but his job was finished. And that's what this was. A job.

"No, you're going with Nikko and Jack." Les forced the words out, ignoring the stricken look on her face.

"Ms. Ryan," Nikko's velvet voice interrupted them. "Les can come if that's what you want. If that makes you more comfortable."

Les' eyes never left Ashley's face. "Give us a minute, Nikko."

Les gently gripped Ashley's shoulders. "Nikko, he's a good guy. He's not going to hurt you, I promise. He's one of the best. You'll be safe with him."

A gut-wrenching little whimper came from her trembling lips and Les almost relented. Instead, he told her. "You've got this."

Ashley's eyes dropped to the ground as she gathered her thoughts and when she looked back up, her mask was firmly in place. This was an Ashley he hadn't yet met. This Ashley was polite, in control, and cultured, and Les wondered just who she was, really.

"Of course, my apologies. You're right." She gave him a tight smile. "I'm sure you're eager to get home to your family, your girlfriend. I won't keep you. I appreciate your assistance."

Les felt like the tool he was. "No, Ashley, I can come with you if you want." He desperately wanted his Ashley back. The one that looked at him with openness and trust.

She shrugged and stepped back. He could see her steeling her spine, erecting walls around her. "Don't worry about it. I was just being silly. I'll be fine." Her voice was crisp, cool and full of authority.

"Really, it's no trouble." It felt like a weight on his chest was strangling him. Les could barely breathe.

"Forget it. Your job is done, and that's what this was. A job. I get it." She went on her tip toes and gave Les a soft kiss on the cheek. His eyes squeezed shut at the feather light touch.

"Thank you for everything. I'll never forget your kindness."

With that, she took a deep, fortifying breath and walked away. Her back ramrod straight as she made her way to Nikko. She spoke to him for a minute and then climbed the stairs to the plane without hesitation. She never once looked back, and sadness drifted over Les.

What the hell was he doing. He should have gotten on that plane, made sure she got home safe. Yeah, who was he kidding. She was more than safe with Nikko and Jack. The problem was him. He didn't want to let her go. It was just a job, and he'd done it. So why did he feel so shitty?

The door closed, and Les watched as she sat down. The whine of the engines filled the morning air, and the plane started to taxi. Ashley turned to look out the window and raised her hand and pressed it to the pane. She looked lost.

Les raised his hand and watched as the plane taxied down the runway and lifted off into the early morning sky, taking a piece of him with it.

Regret swift and poignant washed over him. He should have been on that plane.

.

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A/N: For now, we bid Ashley farewell. Maybe Ashley and Les will meet again someday. (Current working title Bourbon and Bullets)