The Heart of Deception

Chapter 17

The cut above Kurt’s eye healed well. At breakfast, three days after the incident, both Lauren and Helen agreed that it was time to remove the stitches.

“Nope. John said, to go over on Thursday or Friday, and he’d take them out,” Kurt informed them between mouthfuls of French toast. “And it’s only Tuesday now, so I’ve still got a couple of days to go.”

“The head has an excellent blood supply Kurt,” protested Helen, tapping her forehead. “Injuries to the face heal very quickly. Those things are ready to be whipped out. If they stay in any longer, the wound will heal over the stitches. Then they’ll hurt like hell when they do come out.”

At the mention of pain, he glanced over at Lauren. She nodded in agreement.

“She’s right Kurt. Most plastic surgeons overseas remove facial sutures on the second day to prevent unnecessary scarring. It’s just here in Australia they’re so conservative.”

He swallowed the last of his orange juice in one long gulp, and then looked at each of them in turn. Shaking his head, he noisily plonked his glass down on the table.

“So you’d like me to go in today, and tell John how to do his job, would you?” He grinned, as he stood, looking down at them.

“No,” said Helen cheerfully. “I’ll just take them out for you. I’ve got everything ready to go.”

“Huh!” He snorted, as he turned to walk away. “You and whose army!”

The women’s eyes met over the table. Kurt was unaware of the conspiracy suddenly brewing behind his back. Lauren nodded. In a fluid movement, they dived across the room, felling him with a rugby tackle. Jessica let out a whoop of joy as the adults lay in a writhing, giggling heap on the floor in front of her high chair. Finally, Kurt surrendered. Effectively pinning him down, Helen lay across his chest, while Lauren knelt over his shins.

“Okay,” rejoiced Helen. “You hold him down, and I’ll do the deed.”

The thought of holding Kurt down with her body weight, sent Lauren’s heart racing. Her mouth dried as her eyes caught the daring invitation in his.

“Uh-uh,” she mumbled. “It’s my turn. I’ll take them out, while you sit on him.”

Lauren had done this a hundred times before. Well, almost. This would be the first time on a kitchen floor. Her face reddened. Kurt only had six stitches above his eye. This should be a piece of cake. Then, why was she so nervous? Somehow, she consciously stilled her trembling hands, and smiled congenially, as she cleaned the wound with saline.

Kurt’s eyes never left her blushing face throughout the entire procedure. His breath lightly fanned her cheek. She was sure everyone in the room could hear how loudly her heart was pounding. The stitches slipped out easily, leaving a neat pink line below the eyebrow. Dabbing the wound gently with a dry swab, Lauren was thankful he hadn’t sustained worse injuries.

“Aren’t you going to kiss it better?” he asked quietly, as her fingers unconsciously traced the outline of the yellowing bruise on his cheek.

Lauren’s flushed face turned a deeper shade of red, before she lowered her head. At the last moment, he turned to meet her lips with his, urging her mouth to linger.

“Excuse me people,” teased Helen, playfully prodding her brother in the ribs, successfully breaking the spell. “This behaviour is most inappropriate for the kitchen.”

Lauren sat back on her haunches as Kurt heaved himself free from his sister’s grip. Helen squealed as the tables turned, and he tickled her senseless. Jessica hooted with delight. Reaching out her little arms, she noisily demanded to be included in the mad frolic on the kitchen floor.