His Jaguar Tattoo

Thank God For First Aid

As Drew marched down the stairs, his eyes lowered to find Zuri waiting for him at the bottom. She pressed a sweet smile to her face.

"Before you go," she said, "I have to ask you something."

"Make it quick." He descended the steps two at a time while fastening the button on his black jacket.

"The kitchen is running low on a lot of stuff. Like milk, eggs, flour, and sugar."

"I'll tell one of my men to stop by the store later."

Zuri stepped in front of him before he could sweep by. "Or you could let me go? I'm very good at grocery shopping."

"Not a chance," he replied, gently pushing her aside.

"I won't run away! I wouldn't risk my Grandma's life like that."

When he didn't slow, snatching his car keys from a rack, Zuri sprinted to the front door and plastered herself across it. Her lips poutily pulled down.

"Please, Drew."

"No. Now move." He tried pushing her aside again, but she remained rooted to the floor.

"Okay, but what about my phone? You kidnapped me before I could grab it."

"You don't need a phone."

"But what if I need to reach you?"

He shook his head. "You won't."

Pursing her lips, Zuri crossed her arms. "You don't know that."

"I don't have time for this, Zuri. Move."

"Okay, okay," she resigned, stepping out of the way. "Just consider getting my phone, please. Or any phone. I'll even settle for an old folks phone. A Jitterbug or whatever."

Drew rolled his eyes. "I'll be back in a few hours. My men are coming for a meeting, so be a good fiancée and prepare a table of scotch and bourbon. One of them likes sweets, so bake cookies or something."

"You got it, Cap," she replied, mocking a sloppy salute.

Without another word, he marched outside to the white Audi sedan. Zuri watched him zip off through the glass door.

"You should be baking me some cookies," she growled as she turned away from the door and stormed off to the kitchen.

^^^

Three hours later, the slamming of several car doors alerted Zuri of her captor's return. And judging by how many doors were slamming, he'd brought many of his men with him. She wheeled the alcohol cart into the meeting room and pulled out two crystal vases of amber liquid along with all the short drinking glasses she could find. When she emerged from the room to fetch the cookies, she plowed into Drew.

"Oh," she gasped, ramming into his chest. "Sorry. Didn't see you there."

He looked disgruntled and only further upset by her clumsiness. "I see you did as told?"

"Yes." Zuri glanced over her shoulder at the drink cart. "And the cookies should be done."

"Well done," he murmured.

For a split second, warmth swam into his dark eyes. Almost affection. Then someone's call brought back the chronic hardness.

"Sir," the stranger said, "can we get this started?"

Zuri took the opportunity to slip away from Drew and slither out of the room. Suits, muscles, and testosterone crowded the ornate hall of the bottom floor. Their eyes followed her until she'd hidden herself in the kitchen. Once inside, she took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter. There must have been at least fifty men out there. She loathed large crowds. They made her anxious.

The sugary aroma of the cookies retrieved Zuri from her panic. She rushed to the oven and hastily pulled the cookie tray out. Somehow she managed to burn her pinky finger in the process.

"Ow!" she hissed, sliding the scalding tray onto the stove.

"Are you alright?"

As she whirled around, her gaze met the light green eyes of a suited man. He appeared young, almost as young as her. A concerned expression gathered in his furrowed brows and cinched lips. His strawberry blonde hair fell across his forehead when he looked down at her hand, which she then realized she was clutching.

"I-I'm okay," she finally answered, turning away from his probing gaze. "Just burned my finger on the stupid cookies."

He strolled over to the sink and turned the tap on. "Here, put your finger under the water. It's cold."

"Cold water actually makes it worse." Zuri twisted the knob to warm until the water turned lukewarm. "It has to be right in the middle."

"Are you a nurse?"

Avoiding his gaze, she watched the water run over her little red extremity and replied, "Nope. I just took first aid in high school."

"That's convenient."

"Immensely."

"Well, my name is—"

Drew's voice made them both jump. He was speaking louder than usual. "Ajax, I see you found my fiancée."

Zuri's gaze flickered back to the man beside her before returning to her captor. Drew's shoulders were tense and his eyes blazed for a reason beyond her deciphering.

"I heard a noise," Ajax explained, "so I stepped in to see what was wrong. Zuri burned her finger."

"You what?" Drew closed the distance between them and held out his hand. "Let me see."

Although she did gently show him her wounded pinky, she wanted to demand why he cared. It was just a little burn. He didn't have to act like she'd accidentally chopped it off.

"Be more careful next time," he warned, eyes softening an increment. "Please, Zuri. Don't hurt yourself."

"I didn't do it on purpose," she muttered.

"I know."

Ajax cleared his throat. "We should start the meeting, Mr. Benson."

"Yes," Drew agreed. "Head in. I'll be there in a moment."

Once his personnel was gone, he turned back to Zuri. "Stay away from him."

"What?"

"Stay away from Ajax. I don't appreciate the way he looks at you."

"Drew, he's not—"

"Zuri. Listen to me. I will not play games. Stay away from him."

She sighed. "Fine. Not like I wanted to be friends with your henchmen anyway."

"Good. You shouldn't. And don't forget to bring those cookies in. They smell good."

"Thank you." Her left eyebrow quirked. "I didn't know you were capable of giving compliments."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." As he leaned closer towards her, pressing her against the kitchen counter, he dipped his face to hers. Just before their lips grazed, he pulled back. A cookie was in his hand. "Like how chocolate chip is my favorite."

Cheeks colored a bright red, Zuri glared at him while he ambled out of the kitchen. Slimy jerk, she thought bitterly. I didn't want to kiss him anyway.

Then she turned back to the hot cookies and went about her work, grumbling on about being a slave.