by Lorenz Font
Sarah wasn’t about to argue against holding, embracing, and feeling his warm body against hers all night. She flicked off the light, and the room plunged into darkness. Greg twisted and shifted into a more comfortable position, tugging on her arm so she’d join him. She kissed him good night before she turned her back to him, fitting her body into the curve of his like a puzzle piece. It was a perfect fit.
Her head rested on his arm, while his other hand relaxed around her body, cradling her close to him. She could get used to this. They were quiet, neither one choosing to break the silence with words.
Once she heard Greg’s breathing even out, Sarah smiled in the darkness, feeling a mix of relief and worry. Although she was glad they’d admitted their feelings for each other, she couldn’t help but wish their situation weren’t so damn complicated. Still, this wasn’t the time to dwell on the negatives facing them. They would figure those out together once Greg had healed.
With a sigh, Sarah let her mind relax. The steady tempo of Greg’s heart against her spine invited her to give in to the oblivion sleep offered, safe in the arms of the man she loved.
“I love you,” she whispered. Sarah closed her eyes and savored her words for a moment, feeling liberated and light. She’d been dying to share them with him for so long.
“I love you more, Sarah.”
She smiled, and the last thing she remembered before sinking into sleep was the overwhelming feeling of bliss and contentment. He’d said it. What more could a girl ask for?
Sometime during the night, throbbing in the lower part of his injured limb woke Greg from a sound sleep. The pain was so great that his sweat soaked his flimsy hospital gown. Despite the discomfort, he refused to move, fearing he’d wake up Sarah. He suffered in silence, hoping it would soon pass. His breathing shallow, he willed his mind to focus on pleasant thoughts to combat the pounding in his leg and the persistent nausea.
Barry had begged him to reconsider his decision not to accept a transfusion, but Greg had remained adamant. Now he was paying the price for his obstinacy. He didn’t care—Sarah had given him her blood, and accepting blood from another now seemed like a blatant betrayal of that bond. It was a bond—whether she liked it or not—that would forever connect them. He gazed down at her once more. Her eyelids were twitching and her lips were parted. She was beautiful when she slept. He could lay there forever just watching her.
Another surge of pain racked through his body, and Greg remembered the pill the male nurse had left for him. Man, wasn’t he a bastard for putting on that little show? But the guy had deserved it. No one ogled his woman. He liked the sound of that—his woman. The display might not have been one of his shining moments, but he had been powerless to contain the green-eyed monster.
He tried to figure out the best way to grab the little cup containing the pill without disturbing the woman in his arms. Forget the water. He’d chew on the tablet if it meant not waking up Sarah. He didn’t want to move, but the damn pain made it impossible for him to go back to sleep.
Torn, he lifted her head in the gentlest way possible to free his arm. The minor flexing of his muscles sent a searing pain shooting through his thighs and radiating through the rest of his lower limb. He tried to stifle his involuntary cry but without success.
Sarah’s eyes flew open, and she jerked up. “Greg, what’s wrong?” Her voice, still laced with sleep, cracked in the darkness.
So much for not waking her up. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.” Greg gritted his teeth and swallowed back a groan.
She sat up on her haunches. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing. What’s wrong?” He could see her trying to read his expression in the darkness.
“Damn!” Another wave of pain shot down his leg. Greg looked at her through unshed tears and closed his eyes.
“You’re in pain, aren’t you?”
He nodded and ground his molars. The bed dipped when Sarah stood, and Greg listened to her footsteps rounding the bed before her hand touched his arm.
“Here’s your pain pill. You should’ve taken it before we went to sleep.” She pressed the little paper cup into his hand. Despite her reprimanding tone, Greg caught the concern etched in her face when she helped him up.
“Thanks.” He accepted the medicine and popped it in his mouth, hating himself for crying like a big baby.
“Here’s a glass of water.”
Sarah handed him a glass, and he drank in quick, greedy gulps.
“Do you want more?”
He shook his head. “If I drink more, I don’t think my bladder will hold out ’til morning.” Greg shifted his position, hating the perspiration-drenched material he wore.
Without a word, Sarah padded into the bathroom and returned with a urinal. “I will leave the lights off. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble at all.” She handed him the plastic container and pivoted around. He detected laughter in her voice.
“You’re too smart for your own good.” He took the handy urinal and worked on relieving himself. Mortified or not, he had to go, or he’d be crossing his legs until the morning. Once finished, he hung the urinal on the bedrail. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sarah turned around, and he caught the smile on her face. Feeling embarrassed about her waiting on him, he closed his eyes while Sarah took the urinal from the rail and went to the bathroom. The sound of the toilet flushing followed. She came back a moment later holding out some baby wipes and a change of clothes for him.
“Can you sit up?”
Greg struggled to lift his body into a sitting position, but the pain continued to hit him in spurts. The damn medication still hadn’t taken effect yet. “I can’t.” He flopped back down against the pillow. A feeling of dread washed over him. If this was how the rest of his life was going to pan out, it would be a pity if Sarah were reduced to being his babysitter. He’d wanted to give her more—this wasn’t quite the route he’d wanted to take.
It was a good thing that she couldn’t see the look of disgust etched in his face. He grunted, despising himself more with each passing second.
“Support your body with your arms, and I’ll do the rest.” Climbing onto the bed, she waited for him to hoist his body up before she propped several pillows behind his back. Without effort, she lifted his arms one at a time to slide off the sleeves of his gown. Using a towel, Sarah wiped the sweat from his back and slid a fresh gown onto him, tying the ribbon at the back of his neck. “Better?”
“Yeah.” Embarrassment and gratitude warred inside him.
After she’d put the dirty linen away, Sarah climbed back into bed and snuggled up to him once more without skipping a beat. “The pain meds should start working any time now.” Her arms circled his waist, and her face rested in the crook of his neck.
“I love you.”
She looked up at him, her eyes tender. “I love you more,” she replied, repeating the same words he’d used earlier.
How could he be in two places at the same time? It was heaven to cradle her in his arms, but it was also hell. Yeah … the pain had to go away. He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
The minutes ticked by, and relief came at last. The pain began to subside, replaced by the promise of sleep. “That’s my line, you know … I own the words—I love you more,” he heard himself say before the warmth of slumber embraced him.
Chapter 22
Sarah awoke to the tail end of what sounded like a shriek. Loud, rude voices interrupted her glorious time in dreamland. Her eyes popped open, and still disoriented, her sleepy gaze settled on the faces of a couple peering down at her. The man’s face was somewhat familiar, but the aristocratic, blond woman standing next to him wasn’t. Sarah glanced around, pulling the sheets up to her chin, feeling vulnerable. After a moment, she was able to focus and remember where she was. She tried sitting up, but Greg’s arm was splayed across her body, making it impossible to move without waking him.
“Who is this girl?” the woman asked
. Her tone even had an expensive lilt to it.
The instant she realized who Greg’s visitors were, she jumped. Embarrassed and confused, she turned to check on Greg, wriggling out from underneath his arm. He stirred at the slight movement, and his eyes fluttered open to look up at her.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“That’s the one I told you about.” Greg’s father made no attempt to hide his disapproval. “The prairie nigger.”
Sarah heard it and so did Greg. They both stiffened, and in one quick movement, Greg’s arms circled her waist and drew her closer to him. He kissed her on the forehead before turning his attention to his parents.
“As much as I appreciate this visit, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.” Greg’s tone expressed clear disdain at his father’s treatment of Sarah.
He shifted his position and cursed. At his painful shudder, Sarah scrambled off the bed. Instead of pressing the call button, she moved to go to the door, planning to leave without a word. As much as she hated to abandon Greg, the last thing she needed was to be the target of another racial slur. She refused to be caught in the head-on collision that was waiting to happen.
“I’ll get your nurse to give you a pain pill.”
She turned to go, but Greg’s voice stopped her. “Please, stay here with me.”
Sarah hesitated. She was dying to get away from the ignorant and hurtful words Greg Jr. would fling at her. This was not the place for her. The animosity between father and son was obvious, and she’d hate to be in the room when one of them exploded.
Chelsea rushed forward to fuss over Greg, but his father held her back.
“Leave him be. He’s been looking for trouble all his life. I’m beginning to think he deserves everything coming his way.”
She hesitated, her face crumpling.
Greg motioned to the door. “I don’t care what you think. Just go.”
Greg Jr.’s expression hardened. “Don’t make a habit of throwing people out.”
“Then don’t make a habit of insulting Sarah. You know damn well I won’t hesitate to throw you out again.” Greg’s voice rose. With one careless sweep, he went to hoist up his body, but his fresh leg wound made itself known. He sank back down, howling in pain.
“Greg don’t—”
Sarah’s caution was cut off when Greg Jr. crossed to the side of Greg’s bed and glared at him. “You, bastard, had better get your life in order.” Before any on them could react, Greg Jr. grabbed his son’s neck and aimed a fist at his face.
With no time to think and her protective instinct kicking in, Sarah ran toward Greg’s dad. “No!” she shouted, slamming herself against his body and knocking him backward.
Greg fell back against the mattress, hollering in pain. His cries jolted Chelsea into action, and she ran to Greg’s bedside, crying, “Stop it! Stop it!” Her pleas were drowned out by Greg’s piercing howls.
“Young lady, if I were you, I’d walk out of here right now.” Greg Jr. appraised Sarah with contempt. “Just because my son decided he’d take you in, it doesn’t mean you’ve been welcomed into the family. You’re not free to meddle in our lives.”
Shocked, his father’s words lanced through her heart worse than any dagger. You’re not welcome. The statement stung, and it was a definite cue to leave. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude into your business.”
“Yeah, go back to where you came from, and don’t come back!” Greg’s father stalked Sarah until her back was pressed against the wall. His eyes narrowed into angry slits, and his mouth tightened into an unforgiving, grim line.
The sharp and distinct words hit her like she’d been doused with cold water, waking her to the impossibility of a future with Greg. Was this what being with him would entail? Insult after insult? With her own problems to bear, being called names just added to the weight she’d been carrying on her shoulders. Sarah hadn’t signed up for this, and she wouldn’t leave herself vulnerable to continued verbal attacks, whether he was the father of the man she loved or not.
“Enough. Stay away from her!” Greg shouted.
Poised to flee, she took one look at Greg, who was getting out of bed with his mother’s help. Sarah knew the extent of his injuries, and the sight of him struggling to stand made her want to cry.
Torn between staying to help him and fleeing for self-preservation, she inched toward the door. Greg Jr. continued to glare at her, although he took a step back upon Greg’s warning call.
“Don’t go, Sarah.” Greg’s tone echoed in her head even if he couldn’t manage more than a whisper. He hobbled to get to her, his eyes pleading for her to stay. Chelsea had her arms around him, but his weight seemed too much for her slight build to support.
“Greg, I’m sorry. I have to go. I will call you when I get home.” Sarah turned for the door and left without looking back. The last thing she heard before the door closed after her was Greg Jr.’s scathing remark.
“Home? For Christ’s sake, you’re still married, you dumb bastard. You’re just like your mother. Playing house with that little girl?”
She’d kept her composure inside Greg’s hospital room, but the moment she’d cleared the hallway, she let the tears flow. Breaking into a run, she didn’t stop until she’d reached the elevator.
Sarah stumbled when she bumped into a man coming out of the elevator. “I’m sorry.” She dared not look up and show the world her anguish, but a set of strong arms steadied her.
“Sarah, what’s wrong?”
She recognized Simon’s voice and tried to wipe her unseen tears away. “Nothing. I’m on my way home.”
Stepping inside the elevator, she hoped to get away before being subjected to a round of questions and answers. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed and cry. She punched the button, but Simon wedged his hand in between the steel doors and stepped in with her.
The elevator descended, the steady whirring sound pounding in her head, and she bit her lip to hold back a sob.
“Sarah, what’s going on? You know you can talk to me.” Simon’s solemn voice echoed in the enclosed space.
His kindness and concern made the dam explode. The words rushed out of her mouth in a flood. “Greg is way out of my league. We’re worlds apart. This life I’m leading with him is wrong. I knew it from the start, but I can’t stay away from him. I wanted to protect myself from getting hurt, but it seems like I’m headed that way, no matter what. And I’m so scared. So scared of losing him.”
Sarah threw her hands up in frustration. “All this craziness is scary. And to top it all off, his father hates me and thinks I’m just hanging around because of Greg’s money. The things Mr. Andrews called me … how can people be so ignorant and cruel? Simon, I don’t care about those things. I want Greg alive and happy.” Torment clogged her veins, a sick reminder of how wrong her life had been. It hadn’t been her plan to fall in love with Greg.
Simon’s muscular arms enveloped her, and she sagged into him like a battered flower during a storm. “Whatever happened in there, don’t let it get in between you and Greg. You have to trust your instincts … and him.”
Sarah gazed up at him through her tears, unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. Her first inclination was to believe him, but her better sense argued against it. Doing as he suggested would only lead her to further heartache. She and Greg had nothing much in common except their love for each other. Was that enough? Sarah didn’t belong here, and no matter how hard she tried, she’d never fit in. Their worlds weren’t meant to align.
“I don’t know, Simon. This isn’t real. I’ve been living in a dream.”
“It is real, Sarah. You can’t fight it, and you mustn’t. You and Greg have something special. I can see it.” Simon’s gentle tone touched her, and his smile provided the strength she needed.
“I need time to think.”
“Go home, take a long shower, and think about what I’ve said. Don’t let vile words of a boorish and bitter man lead you to believe
you don’t deserve to be with Greg.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Sarah nodded, still unconvinced. The scent of the hospital scene wafted around her while they walked through the busy lobby, keeping her nerves frayed and her mood jumpy.
Within minutes, she sat in the back passenger seat of the limousine, and a silent Rudy drove her home. He gave her a sympathetic look when he held the door open for her. No words were necessary. Once Sarah reached the top floor, she let herself into the quiet penthouse.
No Matilda anywhere. At times, the woman was like a mother to her, a presence in Sarah’s life she’d missed, but today, she didn’t want to talk. She needed to regroup and collect her thoughts.
Shutting the door to her bedroom, Sarah leaned back and took a deep breath. Looking at the big picture, any outsider would tell her to stay away. Greg was out of her league. What in the hell was she doing here?
You’re in love with Greg.
“Yes, I am.” Her answer came out without hesitation; defensive, yet certain.
Then you’ll wait for him and talk about it, her inner voice asserted. You will make this work.
The ringing of her cell phone shook her out her thoughts. Wiping the tears from her face, she rushed to her nightstand where her purse sat. Sarah fished out her cell phone, and her eyes popped. There were ten missed calls and eight voice mails.
Lily! What could have happened to make her friend call and leave so many messages? Sarah’s mind raced. Had something happened between Lily and Trimble? She quickly dialed the number and was relieved when her friend answered.
“Lily? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Sarah! Where have you been? I’ve been calling you since last night.” Lily’s frantic voice sounded breathless.
“Lily, what’s going on? Did something happen to Trimble? Is that why you called?”
There was a pause, and it sounded like Lily was crying. “Sarah, your father suffered a heart attack yesterday afternoon.”