Jason Morgan was a rich man. With several accounts overseas, all under assumed names, he knew his Grandchildren's, children were set for life. Then there were the modest estates he and Sonny had purchased years ago. Sitting empty in locations like Italy, Greece, and Portugal. Hand sewn suits designed by uptight fashion freaks hung in his closets back home, still in their protective plastic, costing him what most families brought home in a year.
It didn't matter how much money he had, or how many homes he owned, there was one thing he'd never be able to buy. A working guide on the woman's mind. It would probably be a tough read and could in all likelihood drive any sane man to crack like a nut. Right now, he'd was willing to take that chance. Or pay millions to understand the dripping wet kitten glaring at him from across the kitchen.
She acted like he'd done something gross like fart, belch, or god forbid pick his nose. Instead, he'd been trying to help. Her crappy ass car was broken. He knew someone who could fix it. Easy enough. Instead she treated him like he'd stepped on her cats tail.
Francis's little, "We're men, and we're horndogs" talk hadn't helped either. He was now noticing things that hadn't really registered with him before. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed that Elizabeth was a good looking woman. After seeing the way she filled out a pair of jeans made it nearly impossible not to notice. But it had been a completely different kind of observation.
It was like appreciating a nice pair of rims on someone else's car. You saw them. Appreciated how they looked, then moved on. He'd noticed Elizabeth. It registered that she was good looking. He'd just over looked a few of her finer aspects.
Like how lush her lips were. Not that he was an expert on lips, he was more of an ass man, but it was close to impossible not to stare when she was nibbling on it, then soothing it with a quick swipe of her tongue. Watching her do this a few times made it hard to concentrate.
It didn't matter that she was dripping wet, or that her curly hair hung in heavy waves around her head. Elizabeth Webber was one hell of a looker.
Fuck Francis.
It was that bastard's fault he was standing here thinking of Elizabeth Webber as anything other than Michael's teacher. Or Luke's adopted daughter. Or the woman who had a talent to annoy the piss out of him.
Too bad she looked mad enough to spit.
Which got him back to where they were right now. She was irritated at him and he was male enough to admit he had absolutely no idea why. He could take a wild stab in the dark, she was one of those kind of gals who got their pert little noses out of joint because God forbid someone offer to lend a hand. Their panties would get in a bunch, while they squawked about feminist bullshit. It was every males nightmare.
"Care to tell me why you're so pissy?" Knowing his words had the desired effect, Jason watched as Elizabeth's cerulean blue eyes fizzled in his direction. He could have just asked why she was mad but it would've been a waste of time. She'd tell him nicely nothing, making him have to work the truth from her. From experience he'd learned that the more direct approach of questioning usually had the best impact.
Piss off a female and you had the key to the magic kingdom. Not only would she tell you what was wrong in the now and then, but she was more than willing to dump everything off her chest onto the nearest male.
He may not know everything about woman, but that much he'd learned so far.
"I'm not." Wiping furiously at a stray curl, Elizabeth tugged at the knot on her robe. "I'm wet, and muddy, a-and -."
"Pissy?" Watching her struggle for a few more minutes, Jason stepped forward, knocking her hands away. Usually by this time Emily or Carly, when she was alive, would be ripping right into him. But he could see that Elizabeth seemed to have better control of that knee jerk response.
"I'm not pissy." Repeating herself, Elizabeth watched as his fingers worked on her belt. She was more like . . . claustrophobic. It was odd really, seeing that she was in her large kitchen. But it just felt that everything was closing in on her. Little things were starting to annoy her, like the wet, cold material of her robe. Or the way Jason smelled like the woods in the fall.
She may be a little wacky at times, or have her head in the clouds, but never in her life had she been so tightly wound. Oddly she knew it had nothing to do with just finding a dead guy, or being pulled into the police station in the middle of the night.
It had everything to do with having a six foot two pure male, trying to untie her belt.
Working effortlessly, Jason gave one last tug before stepping back and shoving his hands into the fronts of his worn denim jeans. Studying her for a moment, Jason grunted.
The sound stopped Elizabeth from shedding the robe from her body and stare over at him. "What?"
"So you're one of those."
Frowning, Elizabeth ignored the way the puddle of water gathered at her feet and tore the offending garment from her. Her light pink tank top fit snugly to her body, showing off all her god-given assets. The matching cotton pants hung low on her slender hips, giving him an eye full of creamy flesh and tone abs.
"One of those? What's that supposed to mean?"
Silently telling himself that this conversation was better done with eye contact, Jason held her gaze. Even though it physically hurt to do so. "The type of female who hates it when other's step in and help."
Her eyes flared slightly, the blue orbs nearly glittered. "You mean the type that won't let a man open a door for her? Or demands to pay her own way?" Crossing her arms across her chest, a braless one at that, Elizabeth's mouth pinched unhappily. "Not that it should matter, but no. I am not one of those."
Smirking because he couldn't' help himself, Jason unzipped his jacket. The kitchen felt like a sauna compared to the cooler climate outside. "Really?"
"Really. I think it's a sign of respect for a man to open a few doors, it's also a sign that a woman is comfortable enough with herself to let them. As for the paying thing, who cares? As long as the bill gets paid why should it matter."
Okay, this was not something he expected to hear. Another step back in trying to figure out the woman in front of him. "Then why are you in such a snit?"
"Why?" Swiping again at the stray strands that insisted on sticking to the side of her neck, Elizabeth seemed to hum with energy. "Are you kidding me? I practically swallowed my tongue when I saw the tow truck in my driveway. It may not be much, but that car is all I have right now. Excuse me for almost having a heart attack."
Looking a little uncomfortable, Jason rolled his shoulders. "I meant to be here before Bart." Not liking the way she was looking at him, Jason fidgeted. "What?"
"Why have my car fixed?"
"It's the least I could do after . . . everything." His vision swam slightly, but after blinking a few times he was able to see clearly again. After the last few sleepless nights he was surprised he didn't pass out from exhaustion. "Besides Luke should be back soon and might want his car back. Listen, I didn't mean to insult you or anything. It just seemed like a good idea at the time."
He also hadn't liked the idea of her living on the outskirts of town without a working vehicle. It just didn't sit well. Not that he analyzed that feeling for any length of time.
"I don't want to seem like I don't appreciate the thought." Elizabeth turned to the sink, and the weirdest thing happened, making Jason blink his eyes again. A trail of colors followed her movements. Her voice was suddenly miles away and it almost sounded like she was talking through a tin can.
"Jason?" The weight of her hand on his shoulder brought him back again. "Are you okay?"
"Wha?" Licking at his dry lips, Jason rubbed a hand over his face. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, when it did he found Elizabeth standing a foot in front of him. Looking up at his face, with a worried expression. "Yeah, just tired."
"Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Elizabeth asked while she reached over and pulled out a chair from under the kitchen table. "Why don't you sit for a few. I'll make you some coffee."
Eyeing the chair, Jason decided it was probably a great idea to take Elizabeth up on her offer. For the chair. "I'll pass on the coffee."
"Is it because I make crappy coffee?"
"Hell yeah." Removing his jacket completely, Jason rubbed the back of his neck.
Staring at the man sitting in her kitchen chair, Elizabeth's gut instinct was telling her something was off. "How about some breakfast?"
"I'm fine." Looking down at his hands, Jason took a few deep breaths. "About last night." A surge of heat shot through his body, causing beads of sweat to break out on his forehead and upper lip. "Ric was an ass."
Unable to shake the creepy feeling that had come over her, Elizabeth took her time in answering. "I can't argue with you on that."
"It was also my fault." Blowing out a long breath, Jason kept his head lowered. "I shouldn't have told Ric you'd been with me."
"All you did was tell the truth -." Jason's head whipped up, stopping her in mid-sentence.
"Where's your bathroom?"
"Ah . . ." Watching him struggle to his feet, Elizabeth rushed forward when he staggered before gaining his balance. Wrapping her arm around his waist, she felt him shift some of his weight onto her. If he actually thought her puny body could withstand his weight baring down on her, he had another thing coming. "Upstairs."
It was a long trek from the kitchen to the stairs, and by the time they reached the third step Elizabeth knew the nine remaining were going to be a struggle. Glancing over at the man resting next to her, Elizabeth could hear the alarms going off in her head. It didn't matter that she'd only known Jason Morgan for a few weeks, she could honestly say whatever was going on was way out of character.
Tightening her hold, they made it up a few more steps. "What's going on? Jason you're starting to scare me."
"I . . ." Licking at his lips, Jason kept his eyes on the steps as they climbed. "Need to listen . . . to me." His words might have been slurred, but the determination couldn't be missed. "Whatever, happens. . . no hospital. No cops."
Almost to the landing, Elizabeth found herself nodding, while her brain yelled at her to stop it. She was being a ninny. The crazy cat woman, who needed a check-up from the neck up. "We're almost there."
"Call . . ." Blinking, Jason stumbled to the right. His hand grasping onto the railing, while the arm slung around Elizabeth's shoulders pulled her with him. After a few heart stopping seconds, they were able to gain their balance. "Sonny. Call Sonny."
"Jason, lets just get you to the bathroom. We'll go from there after that." It seemed to take forever before they made it to the bathroom door. Leaning against the doorjamb, Elizabeth tried to catch her breath. Jason took a few floundering steps until he reached the toilet. Without skipping a beat he shoved his finger down his throat and immediately threw up.
Stuck to the floor, Elizabeth felt her mind go blank. She knew Jason had asked her to do something. She knew what was happening before her eyes was wrong, she couldn't make herself move. It wasn't until Jason stopped heaving and turned his slumped head toward her.
"Sonny." His words were more slurred then when he'd been on the stairs. It looked as though talking was taking more energy than he had to use. "Phone in my jacket pocket."
"Will you be okay here?" Torn between wanting to run out of the room and wanting to make sure he was okay, Elizabeth didn't move.
All Jason could do was give a weak nod. Feeling guilty that she was leaving him kneeling on her bathroom floor, bent over her toilet, she turned to leave. "Do you have First Aide kit?"
"Yeah."
"Get it."
Waiting to see if he was going to say anything else, Elizabeth turned when he went to shove his finger in his mouth again. Rushing down the stairs, almost tripping over Church who was perched on the last step, Elizabeth ran to the kitchen where Jason had shed his jacket earlier. Fishing around his pockets, she gave a huge sigh of relief when she found his cell.
It only took a few seconds to figure out what buttons to push to find his phone book, Elizabeth flipped down to Sonny's name. With shaky hands, she listened to the dial tone switch over to the a ring. It only took two rings before the other end picked up.
"Jase where are you?"
"Ah, Mr. Corinthos?" Not sure what to say, Elizabeth hoped she didn't sound as stupid as she felt.
"Who in the hell is this." Sonny's tone made her blood run cold and her tongue feel like dead weight.
"E-Elizabeth. Elizabeth Webber." She knew she sounded a lot like Elmer Fudd, but having a pissed off mobster on the other end of the line made it hard to talk.
Worse then listening to a pissed of mobster, was hearing dead silence.
"What's happened to Jason?" This time Sonny's tone had drastically changed. Instead of igniting pure horror, this tone washed over her like a wave of pure calm. "Elizabeth are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Knowing he couldn't see her nodding, Elizabeth remembered that Jason had asked for the First Aide kit. Heading over to the kitchen sink, she tried gathering her thoughts. "But there's something wrong with Jason."
