Page 6 of Whisper Sweet Nothings
“Your knee is bleeding,” a deep voice said, startling me as I looked up.
He was tall, with sandy-brown hair and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. His white dress shirt showed off his broad shoulders.
I followed his line of sight down to my knee and groaned when I realized my filthy cream dress slacks were now stained with red blood.
“Oh, um, yeah, I tripped. But I’m fine. I just…” I shook my head. “Are you Mr. Chadwick?”
“I’m Archer Chadwick.” He stepped closer, and the woman who’d been behind the desk moved back to her chair. “And you’re Winnie.”
It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.
“Yes. And I know I’m late, and you’ve potentially filled the position already, but I just wanted the opportunity to explain why I was late. And to apologize.”
“Follow me,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.
I looked over at the woman behind the desk, who gave me two thumbs up and motioned for me to follow him.
He stepped into an office that was fairly large, and he shut the door after I’d stepped inside. The room had cherrywood bookshelves and a matching desk, with two leather chairs on the back side and one tall leather chair where he obviously sat.
“Sit down,” he said as he moved to a cabinet and pulled out a black box with a handle.
I sat on the leather chair, mortified at how badly my knee was bleeding now, before dabbing it with tissue because I didn’t want it to drip onto the carpet in his office.
I startled when he bent down in front of me and reached for the hem of my pants. “May I?” he asked.
My breath caught in my throat.
When was the last time a man had been down on his knees in front of me offering anything?
Not in a very long time.
I cleared my throat and nodded. “Yes, but I can also clean it up myself. I don’t want to bleed on your carpet.”
His eyebrows cinched together with confusion. “I don’t give a shit about the carpet. You’re bleeding, and you’re soaking wet and shaking.”
Just then the door opened, and the woman from the front desk walked in with a blanket. “Found one. I’m Lucy, by the way. I run the office for the big guy here.”
She wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, and I was almost too stunned to speak.
It took me a moment.
“Thank you,” I said, my words wobbly as I blinked back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall.
I could deal with obstacles—hell, I’d dealt with them my entire life.
But kindness from strangers.
That was a different story.
Archer rolled my pant leg up, and his eyes widened as he took in the gash on my leg. Apparently, I’d fallen harder than I’d realized.
“Thank you, Lucy,” he said, and she nodded before leaving the office and closing the door. “This is going to sting.”
“It’s fine. Seriously, I can do it myself. It’s not your job to clean me up.”
“How’d you fall?” he asked as he slipped on a pair of rubber gloves from the first aid kit before pouring some peroxide onto my knee and then dabbing it with the gauze.
“My car broke down about a mile away, and I walked the rest of the way. My heel caught in a crack in the asphalt on my way here, and I fell.” I blew out a breath as he covered it with what he explained was an antibacterial spray. He was unusually gentle, and then I remembered he had a little girl. The reason that I was actually here. “You keep a first aid kit at your office?”
