On Opposite Sides

by Walters, Janet Lane;

  Jenessa held back a fiery comment. Had he threatened her job or Eric’s? If the union backed down, the situation wouldn’t change. Though Eric could fight for his job, she knew he had already considered resigning. His attitude puzzled her. She’d never give in to threats. She relished a good fight.

  Bishop entered the hospital. The police cars left. The town clock chimed seven times. Jenessa strode toward her friends. “Excitement’s over for today.” She headed across the street.

  Megan caught up with her at the curb. “Do you think we gained anything?”

  “Some community support and awareness,” Jenessa said. “Maybe Bishop will see our determination to fight.”

  “Will we win? This isn’t like the softball game.”

  “We have to play it like we mean to win.”

  Megan pushed open the foyer door. “Want to go somewhere for dinner?”

  “I’m eating at Eric’s. He has some papers he wants us to read and see if we can discover what Mr. Bishop wants.”

  “The trust fund,” Megan said.

  “Maybe that’s it.” She led the way upstairs and dropped her sign on the couch. “When are you leaving for the weekend?”

  Megan shrugged. “Since you have plans, I’ll buzz Sue Lee and if she’s in, I’ll leave now.”

  After Megan left, Jenessa stood in front of the closet in her bedroom and tried to decide what to wear. A pale blue silk pants suit felt wonderful but was too seductive. The gray jogging suit was too informal. Finally she decided on a pair of black jeans and a sapphire cable knit sweater.

  Before leaving the apartment, she grabbed the folder she’d taken from X-tra Hands. She needed to share Sandra’s visit and the information about the staffing agency.

  She hurried downstairs. Outside Eric’s door, she paused, suddenly unsure she wanted to be alone with him. So much had changed between them since Monday night when he’d made no secret of his desire for her. Deep inside, she knew her feelings echoed his, but desire wasn’t enough. She rubbed her hands on her jeans and rang the bell.

  Moments later, he opened the door. She inhaled tantalizing aromas. Her gaze met his. She knew she’d been right to be wary. Need darkened his green eyes.

  “Hi, Jenessa. Come in.” His voice caressed her name. Heat coiled through her. She fought to recall her reason for being here.

  “Am I late?” she asked.

  “Right on time.” He stepped aside to let her enter. His hand brushed hers. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  She nodded and entered the living room. The area seemed more masculine, more threatening than it had before. She swallowed. “Rose, if you have it.”

  “The perfect choice.”

  She dropped the folder on the couch and watched as he crossed to the buffet in the dining room. His sweater matched his eyes and made his shoulders appear broader. As though drawn like a bee to a fragrant flower, she followed him. He poured two glasses of wine. When he handed her one, their hands touched. She felt a burn that coursed to her toes. Business, she thought. She lifted her glass. “To confounding our enemies.”

  He touched his glass to hers. “And to savoring our friends.” He sipped. “What happened after I left?”

  “Bishop called the police.”

  Eric opened the door to the kitchen. “Guess they didn’t arrest you.”

  “They nearly ran him in. For a minute, I thought he was going to hit me.” She paused inside the kitchen door.

  Eric put his wine glass on the counter beside the stove. “I’m glad he didn’t.”

  She grinned. “He would have owed me big time. Just think of what I could have sued him for.” She leaned against the door frame. “What smells so heavenly?”

  “Shrimp scampi.” He lifted the glass lid of a square dish and stirred.

  The rich aroma laden with garlic swirled around her. She sipped the wine. Her awareness of him blazed. She watched him chop fresh basil and garlic cloves, scoop them with the knife blade and drop the herbs in a sauté pan. The subtle play of his muscles and the movements of his body sent the same warm glow as the wind speeding through her veins. He drained the pasta. She forced herself to focus on the reasons she’d come to dinner. The hospital, the contract, Bishop’s agenda.

  “I visited X-tra Hands this morning.”

  He turned. “Dinner first.” He tossed angel hair pasta with the oil and herb mixture. “I didn’t slave over the stove to let the food get cold while we’re involved in a serious discussion.” His green eyes glinted with amusement.

  “Got you. What can I do to help?”

  “Carry the salad and your wine to the dining room.” He lifted the scampi casserole and the bowl of pasta and backed into the dining room.

  Jenessa followed. He placed the dishes on the table and dimmed the lights. Soft music played. She put the salad down. “Anything else?”

  “Just the bread. Be right back.”

  When he returned, he paused in the doorway. She was holding the wine glass to her lips. He stared at her long braid and thought of freeing her hair and tangling his hands in the strands.

  Business, he thought. That’s why she’s here. He had to move with care and make each moment a subtle seduction or she would withdraw again. On Monday night when he’s spoken of his desire for her, she had fled. Not that she could have mistaken his need for her while they had moved in unison on the dance floor.

  He put the bread basket on the table and sat across from her. She tasted the scampi. “Delicious.”

  Her eyes reflected a pleasure in the food that bordered on sensual. He wished that he, and not the food, had brought her such pleasure. Determined to ignore the way her presence raised his awareness and desire for her, he began to eat.

  When she put her fork on the plate, he did the same. “Dessert?” he asked.

  “Later. That was fabulous.”

  He gathered the dishes from the table. She rose and helped. They worked as a team without the need for words. Once the dishwasher had been loaded, he put his hands on her shoulders. “To work.” He pushed her ahead of him to the living room. “What I’d like to know is how you kept this evening’s event a secret. Usually the hospital buzzes with any plans your committee makes.”

  “Only a select group knew. The other committee members left in a snit and Claire had to work.” She laughed. “If the idea catches on, there might be pickets every day.”

  He groaned. “I’m afraid you’re right. Bishop didn’t handle tonight very well. He needs to be defused before he detonates.”

  She sat on the couch. “I’m not sure we can. He decides how he wants things to be and keeps pushing forward no matter who gets in his way.”

  He joined her on the couch. “So tell me about your visit to X-tra Hands. And why did you decide to visit them?”

  “Something my nurse manager said, and a lot of the nurses who’ve quit have signed up with them.” She looked up. “I was nearly caught. Sandra was there.”

  “Why?”

  Jenessa filled him in on what she’d heard the assistant D.O.N. say to the recruiter. “What bothers me is her belief that we’re going to strike.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

  “Not a hundred percent, but ninety-nine.” She picked up the folder she’d brought from the office. “As you can see, X-tra Hands is part of a large health care corporation. Something called MASCHCO.”

  “And after graduating from Sutcliffe, Sandra joined the staff at a large health care corporation and moved rapidly up the ladder.”

  “Then why did she come to Eastlake? Certainly not to share her great experience.”

  “I plan to take a field trip to visit their offices as soon as I can clear my schedule.”

  “What about Mr. Bishop. Is this the same corporation that’s rumored to be interested in the hospital?”

  “Could be. I’ve sent out feelers to learn the identity of the largest shareholders.”

  Jenessa leaned against the back of the couch. “I don’t understa
nd what he thinks he’ll gain.”

  “The trust fund.”

  “Megan said the same thing. I know there’s one, but I thought only the interest was available.”

  “Which must be considerable. He planned to fund a cardiac cath lab with this year’s interest.” He reached for the box of minutes he’d brought from the Cove. “In a few minutes, we’ll know the size and the terms.” He opened the box and stared. The copy of the will had vanished. “Sam, no,” he said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The copy of the will I found is missing. I left this box in Sam’s office. He knew what I’d found and he owes Bishop money.”

  Jenessa shook her head. “I won’t believe Sam had anything to do with this. Simone told me about the money and that they’re arranging for a bank loan.”

  “Then who?” He groaned. “Sandra.”

  “I know she’s sneaky, but how would she have known you had the will?”

  “When I went back for the box, she was in the outer office waiting while Sam and Bishop talked.”

  “There must be another copy somewhere.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure the will had to be filed with the court and there’s probably a copy in their archives. I’m not sure we’ll be able to see it. We’d have to prove we have a need.”

  “We have one, but proving our reason might be hard.” She frowned.

  Eric handed her a stack of minutes. “Let’s see what we can find in these.”

  “What are we looking for?”

  “How the interest has been used since Bishop joined the Board. Maybe the name of the corporation that wanted to buy the hospital.”

  An hour later, Jenessa flipped the last page of her stack and looked at Eric. “We have a list of the improvements that are presently operating at a loss and we know MASCHCO wanted the hospital and it’s possible Bishop owns shares in the company.”

  “And that Sandra worked for them and they own X-tra Hands.”

  She rolled her shoulders to ease the stiffness. “We need proof so we can force negotiations.”

  “Do you have a copy of the contract you presented to the Board?”

  “At least a dozen.” She jumped up. “Let me to get one.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Later. How about dessert first?”

  She grinned. “Lead me to it.”

  He put his arms around her. His lips found hers and nibbled.

  “Dessert?” she asked.

  “What could be sweeter than this?” His lips found hers again.

  Chapter 9

  Eric held Jenessa in a light embrace and waited for her response. The only things sweeter than her kisses would be a complete and thorough exploration of her body. Though she returned the kiss, her muscles and tendons vibrated like bands of elastic stretched to their limits. He couldn’t speak the words that would bring the release he wanted. How could he promise love when he wasn’t sure he knew what love was or if he could meet its demands?

  He released her lips and moved back several steps. His gaze locked with hers and searched for her answer. Then, inch by inch, the gap between them narrowed.

  His body throbbed and pulsed while the urge to lift her into his arms and carry her to the bedroom grew strong and fierce. Her hands touched his arms and moved toward his shoulders. “They’re not sweet,” she said. “But scalding and heady.”

  And her kiss held the promise of a whirlwind to oblivion. He pulled her against his body. His mouth covered hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, tasting, sucking. His hands moved along her back until he found the end of her braid. He pulled the elastic free and slowly undid the twist.

  Once her hair was free, he combed his fingers through the strands. They clung to his hands. Their silken softness caressed his forearms.

  Her tongue slid along his mouth and touched his lower lip. He felt her fingers massage his shoulder where the scars remained. She moved her mouth from his and sucked in a deep breath. Her blue eyes held the promise of love. His hands tangled in her hair.

  “I want you,” he said. “I need you tonight.”

  “And tomorrow?” she asked.

  He inhaled deeply of her scent and the aroma raised by the passion between them. She placed a finger on his lips.

  “Don’t answer.”

  The question thundered in his thoughts. His tongue caressed her finger. He drew it into his mouth and nipped the top. He tightened the embrace, found her lips and cupped her against his swollen member.

  Her smile brought a desert wind that threatened to sweep away his every reason for evading commitment.

  As they crossed the living room, he kept his hand at her waist. Just inside the door of the bedroom, he stepped behind her and buried his face in her hair. His arms circled her waist. The tension in her muscles had vanished.

  Jenessa relaxed in Eric’s arms. His arousal pulsed against her. She felt his breath against her nape and the embers of desire began to glow.

  She stared at the massive bed covered by a spread splashed with a dozen shades of green. On the left side of the room, twin dressers stood on either side of the door. Matching captain’s chairs flanked a table beneath the window she knew must show a view of the park.

  A balanced room, uncluttered and comfortable. Like and yet unlike the man. She knew sensuality and complications underlay his calm surface.

  His hands inched up until they cupped her breasts. The sparks shooting from the impact singed any more of the inhibitions she had layered over her heart since Chuck’s death. She turned in Eric’s arms and splayed her hands on his chest. She had accepted his offer for tonight and though she wanted more, she could be content.

  Liar, cried a voice inside. She raised on her toes, cupped his face and brought her lips to his. His groan increased her need to touch. The fires in her abdomen burned hot. His hands slid beneath her sweater, found her bra and opened the hook. He lifted his mouth from hers, and in a smooth movement, stripped her sweater and bra away.

  When he touched her nipples with his thumbs, they pebbled. For an instant, she wanted to rush this evening to completion, but the slow seduction made her feel hotter than the Sahara beneath the mid-day sun.

  “Ah, Jenessa.” His breath caressed her skin. He released her and moved away.

  Why? she wondered. What had she done wrong? Afraid to look up and see rejection in his eyes, she stared at her shoes. So often in the last months of her marriage, Chuck had rejected her overtures and reached for his camera and helmet.

  Coward, accused her inner voice. In denial of the label, she looked up. Her eyes widened. A grin began at the corners of her mouth. Not rejection. Acceptance faced her. Magnificent, she thought. His dark blond chest hair tapered from his pectorals to his groin. She caught her breath when she saw the evidence of his desire for her.

  Her hands moved to the waist of her jeans. One by one, she slid the metal buttons from their holes. His green eyes glittered with iridescent fires. She wondered if her skin glowed from the heat spreading along her nerves and blood vessels. His smile deepened his dimples. His eyes showed his need. She knew hers reflected the same urgency. She kicked off her shoes and skinned her jeans and panties down. The carpet felt soft against her feet. She read in his eyes the words he hadn’t spoken.

  In two steps, he crossed the distance between them. Flesh touched flesh. She felt as though an incandescent fire consumed her. They reached the bed and lay side by side, touching and kissing. And all the while, the burning glow built inside. She wanted him. She loved him. How could she make him love her in return?

  He rolled away. Had he read her thoughts and realized she was asking for more than he could give? She couldn’t make him love her, and once love died, it could never be resurrected. Coldness dampened the fire. Then she saw the foil packet in his hand. She plucked it from his fingers, opened the foil and fitted the condom over his shaft.

  “Jenessa.”

  His lips brought her to the point of conflagration. She raised her knees. The moment of penetration brou
ght a moan of pleasure and she wasn’t sure who had made the sound. Just as they had danced at the Cove, their body rhythms matched. She plunged into the inferno. Her body shuddered as her need was consumed. She emerged from the fire cleansed and alive.

  He held her in a tight embrace, kissed her lips, the tip of her nose and her cheeks. “That was definitely a double gale force.”

  For a long time, they lay entwined, touching, stroking, and slowly returning to reality. Jenessa stretched. An impish grin spread across her face. Eric wondered what had crossed her mind.

  “Did you say something about dessert?” she asked.

  He laughed. “I believe I did.”

  “And?”

  His hands caressed her abdomen. “I’m game if you are.”

  “Food. I meant food. We must have burned off a hundred thousand calories.”

  He rubbed his chin between her breasts. “Then food you’ll have.” He rose and strode toward the door. “Cannoli cake covered with chocolate glaze.”

  “Sounds heavenly.” She giggled.

  He turned. “What’s tickled you?”

  She sat with her arms around her knees. “Megan said you have the greatest dimples. Wonder what she’d say about the ones I’m seeing now?”

  “You’re just going to have to wonder.” He reached for a terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door. “I’m not offering them for inspection.” He nearly told her she would be the only woman in Eastlake to see his body bared, but the words sounded too much like the commitment he wasn’t ready to make. He left the bedroom and strode to the kitchen.

  As he cut two slices of cake and poured two cups of coffee laced with cinnamon and chocolate, he savored the evening. The sex had been incredible. Her company had filled holes in his life he hadn’t known existed. Her intensity inspired him to fight for the things he wanted, and one of them was Jenessa.

  Words of love hovered in his thoughts, but he had no right to speak them yet. He had to tell her he had been the ICU supervisor at Claremont and that his decision had been responsible for the short staffing the evening her husband had died. He stirred sugar and milk in her coffee. He should have told her weeks ago, but the right moment hadn’t been found. If she had walked away weeks ago, he would never have known how much passion, laughter and pleasure he now stood to lose.