Chapter 6

You can do this… Taking a fortifying breath, Christine moved to kneel on the bed next to him and got right down to business as professionally as she could. Probably a doomed ambition as this point. Closing her eyes tightly, she imagined a calm, ethical hospital setting to ease her mind, blocking out the sight of crimson satin sheets crumpled under Michael's large muscular form. You can do this…

The first thing she wrestled out of his jumpsuit were his arms; wrestled being the optimum word here. Half way through, Christine seriously considered the appealing idea of putting a pair of scissors to good use. Although on second thought, she didn't want Michael to snap her neck over, what he probably considered clothing. She on the other hand, didn't even consider the dirty, torn material worthy of cutting up into rags. In her opinion, the only thing his current attire would serve - was a roaring fire.

Pulling his zipper down as far as it could go, and it seemed to go too damn far for her comfort, Christine had trouble swallowing past her suddenly dry throat. She stared, transfixed at the rough blue material covering his more…ahem… interesting bits. A maddening thin trail of dark curling hair led down from his navel, like a naughty guideline, and disappeared under the cursed fabric.

"Just a quick peek wouldn't hurt anyone…" she whispered, as her hand hovered over the edges of Michael's jumpsuit. But before Christine's shaking fingers could make contact, the uttered words jolted her back to reality. Her mind railed. Are you nuts? That's how this whole mess started in the first place! Because you stuck your nose into a room that you had no damned business sneaking into, and now you almost did the same with his pants!

Hurriedly grabbing up the washcloth and water from the bedside table, Christine swiftly turned her attention elsewhere. For god sakes, she was acting like a horny teenager! And she hadn't acted like that even when she was a teenager. She needed to get this over and done with, for the love of her sanity if nothing else. As quickly as possible. Starting at his face, she carefully, gently moved over his strong features, marveling at how gorgeous he was. Not in the clean-cut-nine-to-five-perfection, Michael was more the rugged I-have-been-through-hell-and-back handsome. It made it hard to concentrate. Focus!

Blowing out a frustrated breath at herself, Christine moved the cloth down to his chest, and had to stop herself from drooling like a simpleton. She really liked his shoulders and abs. Michael was, in a physical sense, a very well defined man, but not overly so, more…naturally, leanly... as opposed to a gym obsessed body builder, who usually looked like he'd been blown up and twisted into shape by a ticked off party clown.

Her amusement died a quick death when Michael groaned next to her.

A flash of panic rose in her chest. Good god, is he waking up? Christine bolted off the bed, not eager for him to find her hovering over him if he did. The situation could become too dangerous in a hurry; he'd almost killed her twice before when she'd inadvertantly surprised him. Carefully leaning closer to peer at his face, she let out a strangled breath after a few tense moments, absurdly relieved that he was still out of it.

Easing herself back on the bed, Christine took her time with his upper body, tugging/pulling on his shoulders to reach his back as well. It was like trying to roll a beached whale, he just kept slipping. She didn't give up though.

After that was finally done, she sat back on her heels, wondering what to do next, all the while doing her best to ignore the lower half of him. Really, the man lives in the sewers, he can damn well sleep in his jumpsuit for a night. It annoyed her that she was being such a coward over this, it wasn't like she'd never seen a male appendage in her life…she just wasn't sure she wanted to cross that line with him. Christine was terrified that if she did, it would mean more then she was willing to admit, more then she could deal with right now.

Absently glancing down at her hand, Christine was startled to notice her fingers petting the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. Jerking her hand away as if bitten, she was more than a little unsettled by the unintentional intimate act. Her subconscious self was enjoying this too much for her piece of mind.

Bounding off the bed, Christine went to splash some cold water on her face, and maybe a bucket of ice over her head.

Taking a little extra time in the bathroom to get a hold of herself and her suddenly raging libido, Christine frowned angrily at her reflection "For goodness sake, you're acting as if you'd never seen a half naked man in your life!"Not like that she hadn't. Christine usually preferred brains over brawn. Boy did she miss out. Her eyes shot daggers at the woman glaring back at her "Will you give it a break already!" Turning on her heel, she threw her hands up in disgust "Great, now I've graduated to arguing with a mirror. What's next? The floor lamp?"

Returning to the torture chamber, formally known as her bedroom, Christine stopped at the foot of the bed and gave his feet a dirty look. Figures he'd ware lace up boots. Impatiently undoing all of them, she experimentally tugged on the left one. It wouldn't budge. Huffing, she placed her hands on her hips, hissing through clenched teeth "You know what? You are more trouble than you're worth!" The obstinate man didn't even have the decency to let lose an apologetic snore.

Levering her foot on the edge of the bed, Christine grabbed the heel with one hand and the top with the other, muttering "I can't believe I'm doing this…" and yanked. She careened backwards out of the room with a surprised yelp when it came off. Muttering curses as she regained her balance, she stomped back in, throwing the hellish footwear haphazardly over her shoulder. Christine tackled the second one and landed on her ass with a loud thud when it got off his blasted foot, cursing "Unbelievable. That's it, I'm done."

That was the last straw, she'd had it! She was too beat up, too tired and too emotionally drained to do anything more for him. Moreover, for what she'd already done and gone through in one night, Christine was positive she deserved to become an angel in the afterlife. Or maybe a minor deity considering who she was taking care of. She was certain Michael would sooner slash her throat then feel grateful. If this whole situation wasn't the epitome of ridiculous she didn't know what was.

In the next few hours, Christine cleared away her medical supplies, cleaned the bathroom, tossed out the spoiled food in the fridge and made a shopping list to replace it. And that was exactly where she went at eight am - shopping.

She was apprehensive about leaving Michael alone in the house for an hour or so, but figured her luck had to change sometime. Fate couldn't be that cruel, right? The first sign that fate was listening came the moment Christine tuned the key in her car's ignition, and it actually rumbled to life without her usual prodding, bargaining or begging!

Grinning, Christine patted the dash "Please baby, just make it to the store and back in one piece, and I swear I won't tow you to the junkyard anytime soon. I'll even buy you new tires!" Thank goodness, the bribe seemed to work.

Luckily, Christine didn't bump into anyone familiar at the grocery store since it was still early. The only one that commented about her six-day absence was Karen, the elderly cashier, and Christine managed to appease her curiosity without much fumbling, surprised that the lie about being out of town for a few days came to her so easily. She did feel a little sorry about it, but figured it was better than the truth any day. She could just imagine that conversation.

Oh, I got kidnapped by a serial killer, taken underground somewhere, lusted after him for a few days and then amazingly escaped. And did I mention I almost got run over? No? Well, Mr. Mayers was so sweet and actually saved me, got knocked out, and now he's waiting for me at home, spread like a gigolo on my bed! Enough about me, how was your week Karen? Uh-huh. That would go over fabulously. Karen would've had a heart attack the second after calling in the national guard.

Walking swiftly back to her car, Christine almost dropped a heavy bag on her foot when a very familiar voice called her name. Her mind panicked. Not him! Not now! Quickening her pace, she tried to keep from running the last few feet to her vehicle. People really needed to stop sneaking up on me, or I swear, one day I am going to drop something! Hopefully a grenade, she was in the mood to take someone with her.

"Christine! Hey..."

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she cringed inwardly with a twinge of guilt before turning around and plastering a cheerful smile on her face "James! Hi! Uhh…sorry, I was a bit distracted." Her fingers tightened on the plastic bags, praying he wouldn't ask too many questions.

Waving away her apology, he grinned "I get that. So how are you? I haven't seen you around for a few days." His smile turned teasing "You haven't been avoiding me have you?"

I wish it were that simple. She couldn't help but notice the slight concern in his eyes about her answer and it made her guilt rise tenfold. "No, of course not! I've..." Christine cleared her throat "I've been visiting with my mom for a few days, meeting her new beau and all that…" Looking up at him, she smiled "How have you been?"

James leaned on the car next hers, shrugging "Busy with the shop, but that's nothing new." He chuckled good-naturedly "So, your mom has a new guy huh, how is he?"

Distracted by placing her things in the back of her car, Christine mumbled "How's who?" Oh hell! Jerking up, she bumped her head, realizing her mistake the moment the words slipped passed her lips. She rubbed her head "Ouch."

His brows drew together "The new beau… Christine, you ok?" Reaching for her arm, James pulled her to him and ran a careful hand through her hair where she knocked the top of her head on the trunk door.

Blushing furiously, Christine laughed in embarrassment as she gently disentangled herself from his grip "Gerry! He's nice and my mom seems to really like him." Meeting his worried gaze, she grinned widely, waving away his concern "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired. I didn't get much sleep last night..." Her thoughts immediately turned to Michael, making her realize that she'd lingered longer then she'd planned. Flashing James an apologetic smile, Christine closed the trunk with a louder than necessary bang "I have to get going. I'll talk to you soon…"

James followed her around the car, a slight frown marring his boyish features "Oh, okay." He gave her a sheepish smile "Umm…I was kind of hoping you'd have time to grab a cup of coffee with me, but I guess if you have to go…"

There rose the guilt again. "Yeah, I really do…" Christine hesitated a moment before speaking again, giving him a small smile "I'll call you tomorrow and we'll set up a lunch…uhh date." She really hadn't wanted to say date, but lunch appointment seemed just too businesslike.

Christine had to avert her eyes as James practically beamed at her "Great, I'll look forward to it."

Starting her car, she sighed. I really wish I could say the same. Now she just had to figure out how to get Michael out of her life in the next few days. Christine had a sneaking suspicion that an easier goal would be to free climb Everest.

There were three things of varying importance that Michael noticed when his eyes shot open. The first and by far the most disturbing; he was without his mask. The second, which was just bewildering; he was half-naked. And the third; he was in someone's bed.

It didn't take him more than a second to realize it was her bed, in her house. The pillows and sheets, hell the whole room, smelled like her. Clean, with a hint of apples and cinnamon from the shampoo she favored, and a more subtle musk that was all her. The mixture was permanently imprinted onto his brain, he would recognize it anywhere.

Turning toward the window, Michael had to stifle a groan as his head pounded mercilessly. He ignored it, blinking a few times to clear his vision. He didn't need a clock to tell him it was afternoon, judging by the light shining through the glass pane it was about four. How long had he been unconscious? How did he get here? And more importantly, why the hell was he here at all?

Determined to get some answers, he got out of bed and stumbled towards the door as a wave of dizziness threatened to bring him to his knees. Michael braced against the doorframe for a few long moments, breathing deeply though his nose. His skull felt like it was about to splint in two.

Concentrating on the sounds of the house, he couldn't make out any movement coming from the other rooms. Was he alone? Or was she patiently waiting to attack from a shadowed corner? He wouldn't put it past her if she was desperate enough. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to get the drop on him either.

Opening the door, Michael carefully made his way into the main room, intently scanning every corner for an ambush. He didn't know if he was surprised or disappointed that a SWAT team wasn't waiting for him, or at least a lowly deputy.

Keeping his back to the wall, he stepped a few feet into the large open space. Michael tilted his head curiously when he didn't even see a sign of her. Where the hell was she? The thought that she'd abandoned her home didn't sit particularly well with him.

A soft snore from the living area had his head turning sharply in its direction. Moving closer, Michael was greeted by the sight of Christine sprawled over a large gray couch on her stomach, her right arm and leg on the floor and a huge quilted cushion over her head. She snored again, a bit louder this time.

Michael's first instinct was to throw her over his shoulder and get out of this place as soon as humanly possible. Even though her cabin afforded a small measure of privacy, he preferred the solitude and darkness of the sewers. However, he resisted the urge, moving around with her in broad daylight would be too much of a risk. Besides that, his body still felt the strain of being clipped by a car.

Bending down, Michael gathered her up in his arms and had to clench his jaw as his left shoulder protested. Shifting her in his grip so her head rested on his other shoulder, he froze as Christine sighed contentedly, placed her hand on his chest and buried her face into his neck. Michael suppressed a shiver at the feel of her hot palm on his cool skin. The light contact sent a wave of heat coursing through his body like a bolt of lightning.

He tightened his grip on her as he made his way back to her bedroom. He needed rest and wasn't about to let her out of his sight for the duration. Placing Christine in the centre of the bed, he settled down next to her. A part of him was pleased that she was there, that she hadn't disappeared. The other, questioned her motives. He even questioned his own, not sure what he was doing there in the first place.

His whole thought process died and his frame stiffened when Christine turned around to face him, doing what could only be described as snuggling into his side, while mumbling something completely incoherent, followed by another loud snore. Michael would never know what possessed him at that moment… he pulled her closer so that she was almost draped over him and buried his face into her hair, breathing her in…