It was at that moment that Drew showed up, his emergency having been little more than a scratch that needed a single stitch. He greeted Jeb and Lou, but they were engrossed in conversation with Jane and Todd Burke, so he waved and went forward, hands in his pockets, to see what the crowd was watching.
The sight that met his eyes had a strange effect on him. There, in the middle of the floor, was his receptionist dancing with the richest, most eligible bachelor in Jacobsville. And judging from the look on her face as they danced, she was floating on a cloud.
Chapter 5
Kitty felt like a princess as she twirled gaily in Matt's arms to the rhythm of the waltz, her eyes half-closed, her face radiant and almost beautiful in the brilliant light from the chandeliers. She was breathless, oblivious, in those few moments. There was no past nor present, only now and the music and the brilliant color.
The waltz ended, though, and people applauded wildly. Matt hugged Kitty close and she returned his affectionate embrace, still exhilarated from the breathless joy of dancing for the first time in years.
"Oh, that was fun," she exclaimed at Matt's ear. "That was so much fun!"
He chuckled. "You're some dancer, Miss Carson," he mused, smiling down at her.
"So are you. You're wasted on business."
He shrugged. "Can't make much money dancing, but I do all right at buying and selling horses."
"All right" meant that his Caldwell Enterprises was listed in the Fortune 500 companies. His business empire was so diversified that even if one company failed, there were a hundred more successful ones to take up the slack. Matt was the original hometown boy made good, except for that one black incident in his past...
"Enjoying yourself, I see, Miss Carson," a cold voice murmured behind them.
Kitty turned, flushed and breathless, to meet the icy dark eyes of her boss.
"Indeed I am, Dr. Morris," Kitty said with a breathless laugh. Her green eyes flashed at him. "I haven't danced in years."
Drew's gaze had gone all over the green satin dress twice. He couldn't seem to drag his attention away from it. Matt lifted an eyebrow and quickly glanced past them.
"Excuse me, won't you?" he asked politely. "I have to talk to Justin Ballenger about some stock he and Calhoun are feeding out for me. Be right back, Kitty."
He winked at Kitty and nodded at Drew before he strode off toward the Ballenger brothers and their wives.
"If you came on my account, you needn't," Kitty told Drew, and without resentment; he couldn't help the way he felt about his late wife, after all. "I'm sure Matt wouldn't mind taking me home."
He looked really out of sorts, despite his striking appearance in evening clothes. His hands were in his pockets and his face was drawn and stiff with banked-down anger.
"Do you want to get something to drink at the refreshment table?" she asked when he didn't speak. She glanced around to see eyes watching them surreptitiously. "People are staring at us."
"They're staring at you, in that dress," he replied quietly. "You look devastating. I'm sure Matt's already told you so."
"No, not really. But at least he smiles at me."
His shoulder moved restlessly. "I don't feel like smiling. I don't want to be here."
Her heart plummeted. "I guess not. You've already put in a long day. Why don't you go home? You don't need to stay on my account, honest."
"I might as well," he said half under his breath, as Matt came back toward them. "I seem to be superfluous."
Matt joined them, catching Kitty's hand in his. "Glad you could make it, Drew. Did you bring anyone?"
Drew glanced at Kitty, who refused to meet his eyes.
"No," he said flatly.
Matt laughed pleasantly. "I'm not surprised. You never do. It's good to see you mixing socially, just the same. A man can't live in the past." His smile was bitter. "I ought to know."
Kitty looked up and for an instant, the friendly, familiar Matt she knew was someone else, someone who'd known pain and sorrow.
He glanced down at her. "Let's dance. Unless you have anything else to say to Drew?" he added with a pleasant smile.
"No," she replied quietly. "No, I haven't. Did you take care of your emergency case?" she added.
"Yes," he said, "but it wouldn't hurt to check on him before I go home," he added, not revealing that his "emergency" was one stitch in a torn finger.
"Good night, then," Kitty said, trying not to look as miserable as she felt.
Drew watched her walk away with Matt Caldwell, saw them holding hands. Guy Fen-ton was standing beside a pretty little brunette at the refreshment table. He greeted them and gave Kitty a soft, low whistle of appreciation. Drew cursed under his breath, turned and stalked out of the country club.
"Would you look at that," Lou Coltrain murmured to her husband "I don't think I've ever seen Drew so disagreeable."
"Why did he bother to show up at all?" Jeb Coltrain asked curiously. "He didn't want to come. All he managed to do was to make Kitty feel even more miserable." He glanced at her solemn face, all the gaiety gone out of it with Drew's absence. "She put up a good front."
Lou shook her head. "Poor thing. I suppose she'll choke back tears for the rest of the... Well, would you look at that?"
She stopped dead as Drew suddenly turned around and marched right back into the hall.
Jeb grinned. "Miracles will never cease," he mused.
Kitty was staring into her punch with dead eyes, barely aware of the soft music playing while Matt and Guy talked about bloodlines beside her.
Before she realized what was happening, the punch glass was taken out of her hand and placed on the table, and Drew was leading her onto the dance floor.
He pulled her close, tucking her against him while a soft, seductive ballad sung by Julio Iglesias filled the room with exquisite sound.
Kitty's heart was racing wildly. Drew's hand contracted, his fingers locking with hers. His cheek moved against her temple, coaxing her to rest her head on his shoulder. His movements were deft, fluid, as he guided her around the room.
"You dance like a fairy," he murmured at her ear.
She shivered. The shock of having every single dream come true at once had reduced her to speechlessness. He came back. He came back!
His arm contracted, bringing her closer. Her softness went right to his head. He hadn't realized how possessive he felt about Kitty until he watched Matt hold her hand. He wanted to rip the man apart, an odd notion for a man who abhorred violence.
She smelled nice; her perfume was light and floral. She wasn't wheezing, either.
"You dance very nicely," she murmured, her eyes closed as she drifted between heaven and earth.
"I used to love it. I haven't danced for years, either." His fingers curled closer into hers. "You're going home with me. Even if I didn't bring you, you're mine for the evening. You aren't leaving the building with Matt Caldwell, and I don't give a damn if he does waltz like Yul Brynner."
Her heart jumped wildly. She moved her face into his warm throat and shivered again. He made a sound deep in his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this. It had to be several dates after his first one with Eve. He was a boy again, all aches and daydreams.
His lips brushed against her ear. "I was right," he whispered huskily. "The green suits you right down to your toes. Perfume not bothering your lungs?"
"Only...a little," she managed to say in a shaky tone. His nearness was making her hungry. "Actually some of the ladies are wearing musky perfumes and they're uncomfortable to breathe." Even as she spoke, she coughed spasmodically.
He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, without letting her go. "Where's your spacer?"
She opened her purse and fished for it. She used it quickly, grimacing when she noticed that it was almost empty.
"Don't you check the damned thing?" he muttered, because he'd heard the sound it made. "Dangerous, Kitty."
"I've got anoth
er at home, I think. I'll be okay."
"I've got my bag in the car. If worse comes to worse, I can give you epinephrine to break up an attack, or drive you to the emergency room. Stop being careless."
"I was excited about tonight," she murmured defensively.
He drew in a long breath. "So was I," he replied. "And the emergency was real," he added, "not an excuse to get out of bringing you. It was the Adams boy, the one with cystic fibrosis. He cut his finger. You know how his mother is."
"Yes, I do, poor thing," she agreed, smiling, because he hadn't wanted to stand her up.
He searched her eyes, reading their expression easily. "Did you think I wanted a way out? I didn't. I'd been looking forward to it, too."
"You were going to leave me here with Matt."
"At first," he agreed quietly.
"Why did you come back?"
His arm drew her right up against him. "When I figure it out, I'll tell you. Dance."
She did, ignoring her reservations and clinging like a limpet to his strength. They danced with no one else for the rest of the evening, and he drove behind her until they reached the parking lot of her apartment building. Even then, he got out and escorted her right to her door.
"Going to church in the morning?" he asked, in no hurry to leave.
"Thought I might," she replied.
"I'll pick you up at ten-thirty, if nothing comes up. If I can't make it, I'll ring."
She searched his lean face with quiet, curious eyes. Things had altered between them. She didn't understand how, but they had.
He sighed, catching her face in his hands to lift it. "I don't want to leave you," he whispered, bending to her mouth.
He kissed her softly at first, and then hungrily, deeply, slowly, so that she curled up against him and moaned under his demanding mouth.
He lifted his mouth slowly, reluctantly. His breath was as ragged as her own. "After church, we'll have a picnic. I'll pack something and we can pick it up after the service."
"I'll have to change."
"So will I." He kissed her eyelids, feeling the wonder of being with her. “I hope it doesn't rain."
"Me, too," she whispered.
He kissed her again, very gently. "See you in the morning. Lock the door," he added firmly, glancing back as he left, his eyes dark and warm and possessive.
Kitty didn't sleep. Her heart raced every time she thought about the wonder of the dance. Drew had become entwined with her, so closely that she couldn't bear the thought of losing this magic.
Apparently he couldn't, either, because he was right on time to pick her up for church. They sat close together in the pew, barely aware of watching eyes, and shared a song-book. After the service, they held hands on the way to his Mercedes.
He dropped her off to change clothes and picked her up on his way back from changing his own clothes and retrieving the food he'd already packed for the occasion.
He drove them to a quiet riverbank with a small stone table and benches, and spread a disposable cloth over it to put the picnic basket on.
"This is fun." Kitty laughed, looking summery in her yellow-and-white sundress and sandals.
Drew glanced at her with pure appreciation. She looked young and pretty and very sexy with that low-cut bodice that left tantalizing skin bare.
He was wearing slacks and a green sports shirt. He looked younger, much more relaxed. As he unloaded the food, Kitty noticed his left hand and realized that they still had a very long way to go. He was wearing his wedding band. He never took it off. Of course, it was early days yet, and Kitty was more optimistic than she'd ever had reason to be before.
After they finished the cold lunch, Drew stretched out on the grass with a sigh.
He opened one eye as Kitty muffled a cough. "Brought your spacer, I hope?”
She nodded.
He closed the eye and smiled. "Good girl."
She lay down beside him, drinking in the peace and beauty of the secluded spot.
"A free Sunday," he murmured drowsily. "I haven't had a free Sunday in years."
"You haven't wanted one, I'll bet."
He smiled. "No. I haven't." He rolled over and stared at her. He searched her face quietly. "I want a lot of things lately that I thought I'd learned to live without. Come here, Kitty."
She went to him without protest, sliding into his arms as naturally as if she belonged there. He rolled her over beside him and kissed her.
Long, drowsy minutes went by while she savored his touch on her body, his kisses hard on her mouth. For a while, the world seemed very far away indeed.
Finally, she lay completely against him with her cheek on his rapidly moving chest, catching her breath.
"We should do this every Sunday," he murmured, his eyes closed. "I'm only really required to be on call one Sunday a month." He smiled, contented, and sighed. "All it needs is a child running around, doesn't it, Eve?"
Eve. Kitty froze in his arms. She felt as if every single hope died in her, right there.
He cursed under his breath. He heard himself say his late wife's name with complete shock, because it was Kitty he was holding, Kitty who was in his mind. Habit, he thought, died hard.
His regret was too little, too late. Kitty was already on her feet, gathering things together.
"I didn't mean to say it," he said when they were back at the car.
She shrugged. "I know." She managed a credible smile. "It's still too soon, isn't it?"
He looked at her hungrily, searching for words to repair the damage he'd done.
"It's all right," she said softly. Her eyes were sad, at variance with her light tone. "But can we go home? My favorite show is on tonight, and I really don't want to miss it Okay?"
"Okay." He drove her home, and he still hadn't found the words to apologize when he left her at her door.
She cried herself to sleep. She was so overwrought that she forgot to take her medicine. To compound it, she walked to work, right past a huge lawn that was being mowed. She'd no sooner made it inside the office than she collapsed on the floor, coughing so violently that she thought she was going to choke to death.
At some level she was aware of Drew bending over her and then slinging orders at Nurse Turner as he lifted her.
"Hold on, darling," he said at her ear. "Hold on! It's all right. Try not to panic!"
He sounded as if he needed those words spoken to him, Nurse Turner thought as she watched him rush out the door with Kitty in his arms. She phoned right through to the hospital emergency room and told them he was on the way, and gave them his instructions. The way he looked, he wasn't going to be in much condition to give orders when he got there.
Sure enough, Drew was half wild when he slammed on the brakes in front of the emergency room. A nurse and the resident physician rushed out with a gurney and scant minutes later, Kitty was in a cubicle being saturated with bronchodilators.
Drew was cursing steadily, while the staff stood by, wide-eyed, and listened. Probably learning new words, Kitty thought through her discomfort, because he was eloquent. His face was dark with color and his eyes were blazing like black fires. It was flattering that he was so concerned about her, but she wished he was quieter with it. The emergency room staff— the whole hospital staff—would have a gossip feast that would last weeks.
When she was able to draw breath again, she tried to explain. "They were...mowing grass, and I didn't have...a mask," she said before she was stuffed right back into the mask to inhale the rest of the bronchodilator he'd prescribed.
"Why the hell were you walking to work in the first place?" he demanded coldly. "When did you use your preventative?"
She grimaced. "I meant to have it refilled..."
"God deliver us from idiots!" he raged. He paced the room, mussing his hair. He glanced irritably at his watch. “I’ll have patients screaming their heads off!"
"Go back to the office, then," she growled through the mask, and then coughe
d at the effort it took to speak.
“I’ll go where I damned well please!"
She laid back, too worn to argue with him. He might have forgotten what he'd said the day before, but she hadn't. He'd called her Eve. They were never going to get past that, even if he did care enough to raise the roof of the emergency room because she'd had an asthma attack. Probably it made him mad because he cared.
He stood over her, glaring, until she'd finished the treatment. Then, leaving her long enough to fill out the paperwork, he went to check on a patient he'd admitted Saturday. He was back when she was ready to leave.
He didn't say a word. He helped her into the car and they drove straight to the pharmacy. She knew without being told why they were there. Fortunately the pharmacist wasn't busy and immediately refilled her inhalant.
She showed it to him when she got back into the car, subdued and a little surprised at his irritation.
"They're my lungs," she muttered.
"They work for me," he countered, reversing the car. "From now on, keep up with your preventatives."
"Yes, sir," she muttered.
He drove back to the office and marched her right to her desk, past an office full of surprised patients.
He pointed at her. "It's her fault. She forgot to use her medications and she had an asthma attack right here on the floor. We'll all be here until midnight because she won't take care of herself!"
He stormed off into his office, leaving behind a roomful of shocked and amused patients and a horribly embarrassed receptionist.
For a week, Drew was cold and absolutely remote. Friday afternoon, he brought his father-in-law and mother-in-law in to meet Kitty.
"They're spending the weekend with me. We're going fishing," he told Kitty with a vindictive look in his eyes. "We're very close."
"Yes, I know," Kitty said gently, and smiled as she was introduced to them.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 171