by Azure Boone
"Mr. Constantin, I'm afraid your brother is essentially brain dead. The amount of blood in his skull has put tremendous pressure on his brain tissue. Currently, it looks like only the autonomic nervous system is functioning, meaning the involuntary systems of the body – breathing, heart beating, digestion, and such. He isn't thinking, balancing the checkbook, or wondering how long until he's up and about. I said a feeding tube would be better long term but I meant long term as in the rest of his life. Further tests will tell us more, about the extent and severity, but this isn't going to have a favorable outcome. Honestly, chances are, the effects will continue to worsen. If that happens, he'll continue to lose function, which will mean a ventilator. If his brain loses the ability to make his heart beat he won't make it. You will still have to consider permanent arrangements for him if or when he's released from here. We'll talk about your options later, with the social services coordinator."
The man's softened tone said more than his words did. Lucian had a feeling the old goat only used kindness in the most hopeless cases. "Okay." Lucian stayed silent while the doctor and his students discussed a little more, then filed out of the cubicle. The facts refused to sink in. These doctors didn't know Leo. They had no idea his strength and determination. He would recover. Lucian dropped to sit in the one straight back chair beside the bed.
He couldn't decide what to do. He needed to be at the library for work in an hour, but with Leo down, he also needed to be at the garage to take up some of the slack. And someone should stay to watch over Leo. Their father might show up sometime, but he wouldn't stand a vigil. He didn't care enough for that, and Leo's mother would do whatever the old man said.
Not for the first time, Lucian was glad Leo's mother was not his. No man would keep Lucian's mother from her child's side. Even his step-father's fists hadn't deterred her when Lucian broke several ribs. She'd never suspected those same fists had actually broken the ribs.
He stood and wandered out of the ICU to pace the corridor, trying to decide. A pair of nearly black eyes framed with thick dark lashes kept distracting him, and a heavy braid swinging along feminine curves aroused curiosity.
Why had Leo been with someone like Jessie? She was beautiful, but in an innocent, untouched way. Had Leo intentionally put the faint bruise along her jawbone? She'd said it was accidental, but Lucian wasn't so sure. He had seen Leo play rough with his women a few times, and the results. It was hard not to gag at the way he talked about them afterward, mere livestock to satisfy whatever passing whim or desire.
But this woman had called help for Leo and ensured his arrival to the hospital. Could Leo have actually treated her as a person? If so, why? What was so different about Jessie?
His cell phone vibrated against his hip, bringing him back to his immediate surroundings. "Yeah?"
"Lucian, I've been trying to get Leo. You know where-"
"He's in the hospital." Lucian debated what to tell Leo's secretary. She'd have the whole story eventually, but at the moment, she only needed the barest details. "For right now, I'll have to handle everything you can't."
Middle-aged Abby had managed Leo's shop since before he bought it and didn't miss a beat at the news. Nothing surprised the woman and even Leo thought twice before back-talking her. "Okay, then. Well, in that case, I have a gentleman here from the Stanville Police Department. He needs to talk with Leo about the owner of a car he fixed several months ago."
Lucian sighed through the dread of this news. The moment had been a very long time coming. "Okay. I'll be there." Decision made, he paused long enough to call the library and let his boss know he wouldn't be in. It seemed like everything was catching up with Leo.
He rubbed his palm along the unevenness of the scars that littered his forearm, crisscrossing and overlapping monuments to his self-hatred. It had been months, but he still had the urge to pull the razor blade from his wallet. Except Leo had taken it and forbidden him from doing it again. But how else was he supposed to relieve the pressure, the tension of hate and anger that gagged his insides and deprived him of the oxygen he needed to breathe?
****
"How is this male going to work for Plan B?" Kassern's gravelly voice set Dorn's nerves on edge.
Because he'd gone to earth first, the infuriating angel assumed he knew everything about creating these units. "I have a few ideas. He's already thinking about her. It won't take much to spark that into real interest."
"True, it won't. But she thinks he's homosexual, and doubts whether any man could be attracted to her. If that isn't bad enough, he hates himself and practically worships his irredeemable half-brother. I just don't see how this fits with our rigid time schedule." Kassern stroked the bit of blood-red silk he wore like a shackle around his wrist.
"Her purity will heal his wounds, and his worldly beauty will cure her self-doubt." He hoped.
Truly, they were not what concerned him. It was his bride-to-be, Father help him. Her petty meanness toward her sister was unexpected, even though it was a protective mechanism from her early childhood. He needed to get to the bottom of that. Especially since it was also likely to be a factor in Jessie's issues.
Dorn's ire flared when he added Kassern's sentimental nonsense to the list of complications. Rather than focus on the mission, the fool allowed himself to be preoccupied with things like scraps of fabric his lady kissed for luck then bound about his wrist. The disgusting disease they'd obviously come down with left them unable to concentrate significantly on anything except one another, unable to fully breathe unless they were touching. They were virtually useless, either singly or together. Such distraction could prove deadly in this war.
The reconnaissance reports about his soon to be wife clearly did not reflect the reality. And he loathed having to scramble while his meticulous plans teetered on a disastrous ledge. This is why he favored to labor alone. His record was impeccable and no mission of his ever went off the rails.
Off the rails. He liked the curious modern expression, despite its dirty connotation of loss of control.
Chapter Seven
Lucian paused outside Leo's room door, watching. It was her. Jessie. An odd name for a girl of such beauty. A nickname? An entire minute of studying her self-consciously awkward movements as she tended to his brother led him to conclude she was either new at her job, or nervous. Surely they wouldn't have a new nurse alone caring for patients as sick as Leo? And it seemed illogical for her to be nervous.
He stilled his racing pulse and opened the door. She continued making notes in a chart as if she didn't hear him, so he sat in the chair near the door and watched her work. Occasional moments of grace in her movements puzzled him, until a pattern evolved. Whenever her duties took her into close proximity of Leo, she turned awkward. Nervous? Why? A little distance allowed her natural grace to come through, even while she minimized herself, as if to avoid notice.
She finally turned enough to spot him and jumped. Her alarmed squeal cut off quickly before it could draw attention. "Shoot, you scared me." She transformed into a timid mouse, bringing her clipboard to her chest, lowering it, smoothing her hair, looking around, then down.
Why was she so uncomfortable around him? Had he offended or frightened her? Maybe her discomfort was due to her thinking he was gay. He'd meant to tell her he wasn't, but her bold compliment threw him. More beautiful than a woman? His mouth tugged with a smile. The amusing description was a first.
"Sorry. I didn't want to disturb you." He peered around her with a tilt of his head then brought his gaze to hers. "How is he?"
She jerked toward the bed. "Oh. Right. Yes, he's fine. I mean, no, not fine but…the same. No worse." Small teeth chewed at her sensually full lower lip.
Definitely nervous around him. Should he tell her he wasn't gay? Might clear up the tension.
Before he could think up the proper American terms to explain, the door opened and a young man in blue scrubs sauntered in. He barely glanced at Lucian before planting himself in front of Jess
ie, blocking Lucian's view. "I forgot all about you working this floor. Where were you at breakfast?" he said quietly.
"Oh, sorry. I had to meet with the department supervisor and go over policy," she whispered.
"You could've told me. Your loss." His soothing tone contradicted his words.
"Sorry, I forgot all about it. We can catch up at lunch?"
He sighed. "'Fraid I can't. I promised Amanda I'd do lunch with her when I thought you weren't coming in."
"Amanda?" The hurt in Jessie's voice made Lucian frown.
"Yeah," he drawled. "She's been going through a tough time lately. So, I figured it was the least I could do for a fellow scrubber. But you can join us?"
"Oh, sure, yeah, that…that sounds great. Thanks."
He leaned in and kissed her cheek, startling the hell out of Lucian. Surely this guy wasn't her boyfriend. She was far too nice for such a jerk. "Well, guess we'll see you then?" He sauntered toward the door and glanced back. "If you can't come, it's fine, don't worry about it, no big deal."
Lucian focused on the rhythmic whirr and hiss of some machine while holding his mouth shut.
"Okay. I'll…I'll be there, of course."
"Oh hey…" he whispered with only his head in the door. "Don't forget the party this Saturday."
"Oh, right, right. We're still going?" Lucian cringed at the desperate joy she tried to hide.
"Well duh," he said. "Remember about your ears if you wear your hair up. And no winter colors. You know I love you, but they just don't suit you."
Bastard sounded like he was telling a six year-old how to dress. "Maybe you should write her a list." Lucian failed to keep the bite out of his tone.
The guy regarded Lucian as though seeing him for the first time. What a perfect moron. He didn't seem the least fazed. "Nah, she's got it." He winked at her and left.
Lucian looked up in time to see her swallow, eyes focused down. Shit, she looked like she might fall apart any second. How were you supposed to comfort someone after that sort of thing? "Please tell me he's not your boyfriend."
Her gaze snapped to his. "Why?"
He silently kicked himself. "Sorry, it's none of my business, it's just…" He ached to make her feel better, to show her how beautiful she was. He'd give anything to have a woman like her look at him with such adoration. He wasn't holding his breath though. That sort of woman tended to want a man as clean and untroubled as herself. He didn't fit the job description.
She hugged her clipboard. "He's actually really nice. Usually." She nodded a few times and hurried to the equipment sustaining his brother's life.
While she proceeded to do nursely things he guessed she'd already done, Lucian stood, feeling like he should be doing something himself. "I didn't know you worked on this floor."
She remained a flurry of business. "Yep, I just got transferred yesterday."
"I'm glad. That you're his nurse."
She finally turned to him after straightening Leo's covers. "One of them. He's got several. I'm just one of them." Her dark eyes flickered over him. "You're alright? Do you need anything? There's a cafeteria if you get hungry. Do you need me to show you where it is?"
Lucian studied her. So selfless. Despite her pain, she thought of his comfort instead. She was wide open, nothing to hide. What you saw is what you got. No secrets or hidden issues, just plain…clean, simplicity. Mesmerizing.
"Can you show me the cafeteria at lunch?" He fought the powerful impulse to crawl under Leo's bed, or take back the invitation with some lame excuse.
Her jaw dropped then closed. "I-I'm supposed to meet—"
The idea of her spending lunch with that prick overcame his own discomfort. "He didn't seem to mind if you couldn't make it." Lucian's jaw ticked with his efforts to hide his anger.
She gasped a laugh, her hand fluttering to her hair, pushing some loose tendrils behind her ear.
Lucian stared at her ear, wondering what was supposed to be wrong with them. They seemed well shaped. Not too small or too big. A perfect shell for a man's tongue to trace. He hurried to stifle the thought before it could go further.
She gave a barely audible moan of distress and discreetly returned the hair to cover her ear. "It'd be…kind of rude to just show up at the cafeteria with another guy."
No more rude than your boyfriend going to lunch with another woman. Lucian itched to say the words, but she might jump to the jerk's defense. "I found that burger place around the corner you told me about. Let me take you there."
Lucian couldn't believe he was being so ballsy. Maybe it was because he knew she thought him gay, which somehow made things feel safe. Or maybe it was because he felt clean being in the same air she breathed.
"Okay, sure. Sounds…sounds nice." The hesitancy filling her voice said she wasn't at all sure how nice it would be. Maybe it had something to do with his black T-shirt, leather jacket, and jeans that had seen better days. Shit, he forgot about the portion of his tattoo that showed above the neck of his shirt. Hell, he was worlds apart from the kind of guy she was no doubt comfortable being with.
"What time do you take lunch?" He pulled out his phone and slid it open. "It's 10:40." The moment felt surreal, as if he watched from a distance and someone else occupied his body.
She cleared her throat and glanced away. "Twelve sharp. Do you want to meet in the downstairs lobby? By the front doors?" Right by the Security Station remained unspoken, but Lucian was sure it hung there silently.
He met her gaze briefly. "That works for me." One more glance at his brother's corpse-still body and then he turned and left without another word. It was as rude as it was awkward, but the problem was he couldn't say anything.
Holy crap, had he just asked a woman out? He forced himself to walk to the floor's restroom. Could he make it before he spewed the morning's coffee all over the floor? He hit the outer door with a stiff arm. Shit, the door opened out. He grabbed the handle and dragged the door open, then nearly lost his thumb as it jammed in the handle when he tried to let go.
Finally inside the restroom, he hid in a stall and made the sign of the cross. His hands trembled like a school boy's as he prayed desperately for courage, strength, wisdom, grace, and whatever else came to his panicked mind. He clenched his eyes. If only he had his razor he could release a little of the panic choking him. He sat on the toilet and put his head in his hands, focusing on breathing until he brought his pulse under more control.
It's just lunch at a burger joint for crying out loud. Broad daylight. What was he so worried about? Jessie was every bit as intimidating as a church mouse. Plus she thought he was gay. Wouldn't hurt to just let her think that for the time being. Unless she asked directly, he wouldn't lie.
Lucian washed his face and headed out of the men's room at a far more normal pace. Once in the corridor, whispers and female giggling came from somewhere further down behind him. He turned around and peered down the narrow passage, spying a single door at the end on the left. A locker room? A kitchen?
Suspicion slowly pulled him toward what sounded like some kind of intimate play. Fifteen steps later, he looked into a sort of kitchenette and locker room combination, with a couple of vinyl couches in the middle. In the far corner he spotted that prick from earlier crowding a scrubs-clad female up against the back of a row of lockers. Jessie?
Lucian ignored the twist in his stomach, not wanting to even contemplate why that should bother him. Finally, the punk moved a little to reveal short blonde hair. Lucian sighed with relief only for several shades of anger to follow. Then relief again.
He turned and walked out, realizing he'd gone from being jealous to relieved, to furious in her behalf, then thrilled. If she knew what her boyfriend was up to, wouldn't that be a deal breaker? Exactly perfect in his mind because Jessie was far too good for the jerk. And beautiful.
Chapter Eight
Somehow Jessie made it through her rounds without killing a patient. Thankfully she wasn't administering pain medication or anything th
at required strict focus. She had Lucian on the brain since he'd walked out of his brother's room. Lucian's voice, Lucian's lips, Lucian's eyes.
Lucian's lips.
God, those lips. They made you want to do things. Naughty things. And she was having lunch with him. Could she pull it off without making a fool of herself? Why did she have to be so stupid around guys? Especially cute ones. It never failed, she'd go all chatterbox and like a popsicle in the sun, their interest melted away, right before her eyes. She could always tell when she'd reached the dreadful moment where they gave her an exit line, all which amounted to, I really need to go and never speak to you again. Her boobs lured them in, her mouth drove them out.
She came to a mental abrupt halt. Dammit! He was gay!
Her lovely, he's so into me balloon lost all its hot air, the sad little whiny sound shriveling up her ego. How could she forget that? To heck with it. Gay or not, it was nice to have lunch plans with a cute guy who seemed to see past her bra size.
In the lounge, she took a second to put on a little lip gloss and smooth her hair back into the restraining braid. The stuff had a life of its own and never failed to crawl out of whatever binding she put it in to form little waves around her face that she constantly had to tuck behind her ear. Todd pointed out that her ears were too large, so she had to try to find a way to hide them at the same time. She decided she was as presentable as she could get in her blue scrubs, and headed to the main entrance.
Lucian waited with his back against the wall near the door.
Jessie's heart thudded to a standstill.
His head was lowered like he was deep in thought. Doggone if he didn't look just like one of those guys on the cover of a magazine.
And she was about to have lunch with him.
Lucian turned like he'd sensed her hungry stare. The full impact of his appearance hit her. Worn jeans rode low on narrow hips and clung to heavily muscled thighs. A black bomber jacket shrouded broad shoulders and hung open to frame a tightly stretched T-shirt covering a ripped chest and flat abs. But the real heart stopper was that tattoo she saw peeking above the neckline of his shirt. She was dying to know what it was. More like dying to see it without the obstruction of his darn shirt.