The Privileged and the Damned

He deleted Brady’s second message and put the phone away. Ignoring the unpleasant, pretending it didn’t exist, putting a positive face on … That was just the Marshall family way.

And he was, as everyone liked to remind him, a Marshall.

But at the same time …

He pulled his phone back out and sent Brady a short message: No.

Two hours later, Lily felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. But not because of her little crush. She could deal with that. It was embarrassing, but not shameful. And it was the shame driving her feelings of idiocy right now.

She’d overreacted. Taken everything in the wrong context. Let her own feelings and fears color what, in retrospect, was obviously completely innocent. Ethan, it seemed, really was just a friendly guy. While Tinker was off getting shod, he wandered around the stable, talking to everyone from Ray, the stable manager, to the guy delivering feed, and pitching in to help with whatever that person was doing at the time. At one point she walked around a corner—thinking he had left already—only to find him amusing the barn cats with a frayed piece of rope.

Quite the idiot, indeed. And now the mental self-flagellation was giving her a headache. To make the whole thing even worse, a glance at the clock said it was only just past two. This ridiculous day was barely half over. She needed aspirin.

The fact a room came with the job had been a big plus when she’d applied, and was even more so today. A couple of minutes alone would help the headache as well as give her a chance to regroup.

But it seemed this day wasn’t finished messing with her head just yet, because of course she had to run right into the cause of her headache. Dammit, the Marshall estate was practically the size of her hometown—why did she have to see him every time she turned around?

Lily attempted what she hoped was a casual, non-committal yet friendly nod as she passed, but when Ethan returned it the quirk of his lips had her picking up her pace, mounting the stairs and climbing them two at a time. Honestly, she didn’t care what he thought.

Halfway up, she missed a step. She grabbed for the handrail, but didn’t quite manage to stop her fall.

Her foot went through the riser space, sending pain shooting up her leg as the wood stair dug into her shin and her knee twisted. Falling sideways, she saw stars as her head banged the handrail.

A second later she felt hands on her shoulders, steadying her, and she was able to catch her breath. She knew without looking who her savior was. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

But then Ethan was tilting her chin up, his eyes scanning her face for damage, and she had to rethink that idea. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just clumsy.” Embarrassment combined with close proximity to Ethan had her face feeling sunburned.

He helped her untangle her leg and pulled her gently to her feet. She winced as she put weight on her leg, and Ethan frowned. “Let’s get you inside and assess the damage.”

“I’m fine,” she protested, only to end up sputtering as Ethan bent slightly and hooked an arm under her legs. A second later she was cradled against that chest she’d been admiring yesterday—and it felt even better than it looked. She inhaled, liking the simple smells of sunshine and man and soap, allowing herself to enjoy this feeling for just a brief moment. Her skin heated, but she wasn’t sure if that was her or the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt.

He climbed the remaining stairs easily, as if she weighed nothing, and turned sideways to carry her into the apartment. As he eased her down onto the bed, moving pillows behind her so she could lie back against the headboard comfortably, Lily felt her heartbeat stutter.

“Just a bang. It’s fine.” Granted, she did feel a little addled, but it had nothing to do with hitting her head. In fact, she was starting to get used to the feeling.

Ethan crossed to the little kitchenette in two steps, and Lily realized how tiny her apartment really was. He seemed to fill the entire space, making it feel even smaller. Returning a second later with a wet paper towel, he dabbed at a place above her eyebrow, and the stab of pain surprised her.

The hissing sound she made caused him to frown. He fished in his pocket and produced a cell phone. “I’m calling a doctor.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m okay. Just a little banged up. No big deal.”

Ethan didn’t seem convinced, but he put the phone away. “We’ll see. Do you have any ice packs?”

“Not up here.”

“I’ll go down to the office and get some, and a couple of bandages, too.” The ease with which Ethan took charge was oddly comforting. “Do you need help getting your jeans off?”

Shock cut through her. “Excuse me?”

“We need to look at your leg too.”

Lily looked down and saw blood seeping through the fabric over her shin. Suddenly the throbbing pain intensified. “I can handle it.”

“Then I’ll help with your boots.” Before she even processed what he was doing, or could form a protest, her cropped boots were off and Ethan was almost out the door. “I’ll be back in a second.”

She was still reeling in various stages and kinds of shock, but she had no doubt he’d be back in no time. Ethan seemed to want to play knight in shining armor at the moment. And, while she wasn’t exactly the average damsel in distress, she had to admit it was kind of nice to be fussed over a little.

Especially by Ethan.

That didn’t mean she wanted Ethan’s help removing her clothes, though, and she shimmied out of her jeans as quickly as she could, wincing as the denim peeled away from a raw-looking scrape that nearly covered her entire shin. This was the last straw: even if she had to give up eating, she was buying new boots with her next paycheck. Tall ones. She was tired of wet feet and banged shins …

The sound of feet on the stairs brought her back from her mental grumble, making her realize that she was nearly naked to the waist and that her T-shirt barely reached the tops of her thighs. She reached under the pillow for her pajamas and slid the short bottoms on just as Ethan opened the door.

He carried cold packs from the freezer, and the stable’s bright red first aid kit. Her heartbeat kicked back up again. Maybe she had hit her head harder than she thought …

He dropped the red bag on the bed next to her. “Towels?”

She pointed to the closet.

He was efficient and oddly professional as he wrapped a cold pack in a small towel and indicated she should use it on her head. Another towel went beneath her leg before he produced a bottle of saline from the first aid kit. “This might sting a little,” he warned.

“You don’t have to—ouch!”

“Wimp,” he teased, and grinned at the dirty look she shot him. “How’s the head? Any blurriness or double vision?”

“Nope.” She pulled the towel away from her forehead and noticed the blood on it. “Boy, I’m really a mess. I don’t need stitches, do I?”

“It’s just a nasty scrape. Keep the ice on it. Anything else hurt?” Ethan dabbed at her shin with gauze.

“That does,” she gritted out. “Look, I’m okay—really. I appreciate the help, but I can take care of it.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “And give up the chance to fondle your leg? No way.”

It was such an odd, out-of-place comment that the absurdity of it made her laugh out loud. Ethan grinned. She sat back against the pillows and put the ice pack on her forehead. She wasn’t concussed, and she wasn’t imagining things. Ethan was actually flirting with her. In the privacy of her apartment. While she wasn’t really wearing all that much …

Maybe he was just the kind of guy who flirted with every woman who crossed his path. Maybe it was just part of that whole “being friendly” thing. She really shouldn’t read anything into it—after all, hadn’t she already made that mistake once today already? It was still fun, though—except for the blood and pain part.

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