Your Desire

by Dee S. Knight

  “I thought you were sleeping. Yes, I always watch for deer, but sometimes being alert doesn’t make a difference. They’re experts at jumping out in front of you.”

  He snorted. “Tell me about it.”

  “I’m sorry you got hurt, but I’m glad you didn’t hit the deer. That would have been bad for the animal, of course, and maybe a lot worse for you, considering how small your car is.” She slowed again, for a curve. “Now, obviously the ER staff knows something about you that I don’t. What is it? Are you famous?”

  His chuckle was low and soft, spreading warmth through her. If he could do that with a laugh, what could he do if they were together, naked in her—?

  “I can’t be too famous if you don’t know who I am, can I?”

  She shook herself mentally, forcing her voice to sound normal. As though she hadn’t just imagined his face hovering inches away, his lips descending to hers.

  “Well, yes actually, you could. I’m not exactly what you’d call widely traveled.” She’d managed to get through two sentences with only a slight hint of strain. She dug deep for the sense of professionalism she would need to get through the night.

  “I see.” He seemed to consider that fact before continuing. “I’m not famous. I’m simply the owner of a company. To know who I am you’d have to pay pretty close attention to the stock market. Believe me, I’m really not anyone you should’ve heard of.”

  “Is your company big?”

  “Pretty big, yes. Now tell me why you’re not widely traveled.”

  “My parents were older when they had me. By the time I went to college my mom was sick. I went to school close by so I could help Dad with her. After Mom died, I couldn’t leave him alone with the house and farm. When he got sick I stayed to care for him until he died, year before last.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  Allison was quiet, remembering those years. There’d been so many of them filled with illness. But filled with laughter, too. She couldn’t regret a moment of her time at home, not when she’d been able to help the two most important people in her life.

  “Thanks. It’s okay. Anyway, after that I got caught up in lots of different things and there never seemed to be a good time to steal away. I will someday, maybe.”

  “There’s no husband or boyfriend to whisk you away?”

  Chuckling, she turned into the driveway and the headlights swept the front pasture for the second time that night. “No, there’s no one waiting patiently to sweep me off to exotic places.” She slowed on the gravel of the driveway. “Your car’s still here,” she announced.

  “Someone will come tomorrow to get the car and fix the fence.” He sounded preoccupied.

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

  Now he was firm, his voice confident. “Someone will be here tomorrow, trust me.”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, she pulled away. When she stopped at the foot of the steps leading to the front porch, Frank climbed out before she could make her way to his door. Standing at the front of the Jeep, she spent a moment to observe him.

  He leaned against the car, showing the day’s weariness. His shoulders slumped. Head bowed, his eyes were shut, those long, glorious lashes resting on his cheek. His mouth turned down at the edges in tiredness rather than upset. But when she rustled up beside him he raised his head and straightened his shoulders.

  Proud man. “I can’t imagine why I bought this dress,” she said with a sigh at the noise she made. “I can’t wait to get out of it.”

  A slow smile transformed Frank’s face from weariness to interest. “I could help with that, you know.” Unerringly he placed his arm across her shoulders and drew her to him. “You’re cold,” he said, wrapping both arms around her.

  “I forgot my shawl in the car. This is a sundress, and more suitable to summer than spring.” Extricating herself, she took his arm and led the way to the steps. “That is, if the rag is suitable to any season,” she muttered. “Okay, Frank, there are ten steps. Here’s the railing. Just take your time.”

  He took the first few, slowly but surely. “I like that dress.”

  “You’re doing fine, take it easy.” She had a firm grasp on his free arm lest he trip on a riser. “Well, as Mike pointed out earlier, you can’t see.”

  “But I will,” he vowed with a low growl, “and the next time I offer to help you out of the damn thing, I’ll make sure you want it, too.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Why in hell did I say that? He had no intention of staying around long enough to get to know this woman, clothed or not. In fact, his had been a purely lustful remark, instigated by her comment. For now, he’d just as soon she stay in the dress, regardless of what it looked like. The noise let him know she was near, and somehow that was more comforting than anything else he could think of at the moment. When the thought of having a woman simply nearby was better than the idea of having sex with her, things had gotten to a pretty grim point.

  From the minute he’d discovered his blindness, panic had interlaced with cold anger. Anger that he couldn’t control fate, and in the current situation couldn’t command what he did, or where or with whom. Panic because he didn’t know how long his disability—he had to swallow hard even to think the term—would last.

  For a man who had risen on his own terms to a powerful position in one of the country’s largest electronics firms, helplessness was an intolerable situation.

  Currently, he was fighting a raging battle with a competitor, Stanley Maxwell, for a huge government contract. If word of his accident and the resulting blindness got out, he’d be at a serious disadvantage. He’d used the power of his name, his leadership, his vision—a laughable concept, considering his predicament now—to put NicHughes Electronics at the top of the bids for the project. If he had to fight a lengthy health problem while marketing himself as whole and focused on the new NASA job, he had no doubt Maxwell Industries would be able to cut him off at the knees. And Stanley Maxwell would do it, too.

  But when Allison was nearby, both panic and anger receded for a while. He didn’t understand why, he simply accepted the fact. That’s partly why he’d wanted to come home with her tonight instead of staying in the hospital, and probably why he found himself voicing normal male thoughts around her.

  Of course, even though he felt better with her around, the blindness was still with him. She couldn’t make that go away.

  All night he’d walked a thin line. Having to reveal information to the hospital without making a big deal of who he was. Hoping in a town this small no newspaper would think to have a reporter standing by, waiting for some big shot executive to be wheeled in, blinded. He hadn’t wanted to say too much to anyone for fear the choice tidbit of having one of America’s wealthiest men in their local hospital proved too tempting not to share. The city papers would have reporters down here in nothing flat if word got out. He hoped the one loud-mouthed doctor would keep quiet about his identity, and he counted on David to take care of everything else.

  Including the reason he was here to begin with. If it hadn’t been for that award he’d agreed to present, he would have gone back to DC using a different route and not run through a fence or struck an oak tree. If Martin Johnson’s wife had waited to have her baby, and Martin had been able to present the award, he’d be home right now having a nightcap before bed, instead of feeling his way to the porch of a stranger’s house.

  The whole night had been a series of coincidences. In addition to NicHughes Electronics, Frank had started a philanthropic foundation long ago to reward people who made real contributions to their communities. His being the founder of Helping Hands wasn’t generally known since he purposefully stayed in the background, handling only oversight on major issues. Martin Johnson, the man who was the face of Helping Hands, had been unable to come to Lexington because his wife had gone into delivery three weeks early. Frank had been in West Virginia handling the bid on another project, and agreed to go through Lexington to present the aw
ard.

  Just in time, the plaque had been over-nighted to him and he’d stuck the unopened package in his suitcase on the way out of the hotel. He’d run late, then sat in stopped traffic on the interstate a few miles outside town. In a fit of impatience, he’d torn off at an exit, driving back roads to find his way into Lexington. He must have missed a sign in his haste, because darkness started to fall and he was still wandering around the countryside. A deer ventured onto the road, and suddenly he saw a fence then an oak tree, getting closer by the second. The only good thing to happen in a whole night of horrible coincidences was that he wasn’t seriously—well, permanently, he hoped—injured. And Allison, of course. Thank God she’d come home early from her reunion.

  Considering the weight of the projects he had on his plate at the moment, that he would be incapacitated doing something so small as presenting a good citizen award was almost laughable.

  “Good! You made the porch. Not much farther and you can comfortably rest. For a good portion of the night, anyway.” Allison sounded almost as relived as he felt. “You have to step up into the house, then no more stairs tonight.”

  They crossed the porch. He waited while she opened the door then followed her across the threshold.

  The house felt cool and smelled fresh, as though windows were open. Under the freshness he caught the scent of citrus, then furniture polish and finally, from somewhere, a hint of flowers.

  “Down here,” she said after closing the door and taking his arm again. They walked down a hall. The sound of his shoes on hardwood flooring joined the noise her dress made, but the reverberation was contained as it wouldn’t be in an open room. Moving slowly, she finally turned into a room to their right.

  “This is my office, but the sofa in here pulls out into a double bed. I’m sure this is not what you’re used to, but I hope it will do for the night. At least you won’t have to deal with any more steps. There’s a half bath under the stairs. Do you want to go there now, while I get the bed ready?”

  “Yes, please.” She guided him, putting his hands on the toilet tank, then turned him so he could feel the sink.

  “Can you find your way back? Across the hall, first door on the right.”

  “I can find it.” He sounded much surer than he felt.

  She left, closing the door behind her. Seconds later he could no longer hear her as she disappeared into other parts of the house. For the first time since she’d found him sitting in her pasture, hours ago he was certain, he was alone. Bracing his hands on the countertop, he hung his head and gave in to fatigue and worry. And fear. God, would the fear never go away? The doctors had assured him that his problem was probably temporary, but what if the blindness turned out to be atypical and permanent? Oh, God! What if, what if…?

  He straightened, forcing such weakening thoughts from his mind. He’d overcome a great deal in getting to his current position, and he’d overcome anything else in order to stay there. Nothing had stopped him, and nothing would.

  With less difficulty than he might have imagined, he took care of business then crossed the hall and felt his way to the doorway. He could hear Allison now, moving around and snapping a sheet open to put on the bed.

  “Can you wait right there for a minute, or do you need to sit?”

  “I’m okay,” he said.

  “I didn’t think about clothing. Maybe I should have strapped your suitcase to your back.”

  He chuckled. “I won’t need anything tonight, and David will be here in the morning. He’ll take care of everything.”

  “David is your…?”

  The softest sound hit his ears. A pillow being shaken into a case? He’d never noticed before the little background noises of everyday life. Is this what it would be like from now on? Hearing sounds and trying to place them for what they were and where they were? His heart rose to his throat. God, he didn’t think he was brave enough to live like this if it turned out…

  He forced himself to take a breath. “David Wills. He’s my assistant.”

  “You’re lucky to have someone to help out in a time like this.” She moved around, making other noises he couldn’t identify. “I usually leave my windows open at night. Do you want me to open one in here for you?”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  She came right up to him. He felt her breath tickle the hair where his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. Her hand was cool on his forehead and cheek, the hand of an exceptional and proud woman, as starched as the material in her dress most of the time. He’d discovered that in her no-nonsense treatment of him. But he sensed the softness she kept below the surface. The desire to relieve others of suffering and the willingness to take their needs onto herself. A cross between caregiver and lover. All of that was conveyed in her touch and the way her voice had sounded when she spoke of tending for her parents. Not widely traveled perhaps, but he knew she’d seen things he never had, in the eyes of patients she’d cared for. Absolute trust, gratitude, perhaps a kind of love. He wondered what she saw in his eyes.

  “Has your headache worsened?”

  “I hate to think what I’d feel like if it did.”

  She took his arm and guided him to the edge of the bed. “It’s been a horribly long night for you. Sleep is what you need. Sorry, I’ll have to interrupt it a few times before morning.” She stooped and began to unlace his shoes.

  He jerked his foot away. “What the hell! I can do that.” Christ! He’d sounded harsh, but he didn’t want this woman on her knees helping him like he was a cripple, a helpless blind man.

  “I know you can. I wanted to help.” She didn’t sound upset or hurt, but she stopped.

  The rush of anger left him. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to this. I can get undressed by myself.”

  “Goodnight, then. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” She stood and left the room. Moments later he heard both the swish of the dress and her footfall as she climbed steps, then movement on the floor above him.

  Heaving a deep sigh, he bent to finish the job she’d started on his shoes. Not caring where he left them or his clothes, he felt along to where the bed gave way to sofa and slipped between the sheets. They smelled like sunshine, as though they’d been dried outside on a line instead of in a clothes dryer. The scent brought back memories of his boyhood and before he knew it, headache notwithstanding, he was soundly asleep.

  * * * *

  “Fuck!”

  The word carried through the house milliseconds before that of shattered glass.

  Bolting out of bed and instinctively sliding into the slippers she kept nearby, Allison checked the time, turned off the alarm, and ran downstairs.

  “Frank!” Her hand slammed the light switch on.

  He sat on the side of the bed, elbows on knees, head in his hands.

  “Are you all right?” With one sweep of her eyes she took in everything. His shoes lay between the bed and her desk and glass covered the floor around the desk. Her heart twisted when she saw the beautiful Waterford lamp her parents had bought when she was a child, laying in shards and splinters. She moved so she could see his feet. “Frank, are you all right? You didn’t cut yourself?” There was no sign of blood anywhere.

  “I’m okay. I didn’t step in any glass.” His voice was muffled since he didn’t raise his head. “I tripped over my shoe and knocked something over. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, as long as you aren’t hurt.”

  “What did I hit?”

  “Just a lamp, Frank.” Carefully, she kept any sound of grief for the broken piece from her voice. It had been on the desk—her father’s desk—almost as long as she could remember. “I should have moved it away from the edge.”

  “So the blind man wouldn’t break it?” His words vibrated with bitterness and pain.

  “No,” she said slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, “so you wouldn’t be hurt in the case of a mishap. It was just bad luck, you know. I could have knocked it over myself, hundreds of times.” With one last regre
tful look at the remains of the lamp, she put steel in her voice. “You were getting up for a reason. If you’ll swing to this side of the bed you’ll be out of harm’s way. Here are your pants.” She found his slacks and laid them next to his hand. I’ll get the broom and clean up the mess.”

  She stood and was almost to the door when he brought her to a halt. “Was the lamp valuable?”

  Trying for a smile in her tone she asked, “Does it make a difference?”

  “The sound was of something solid and long-lasting hitting the floor, yet you’ve made a bigger deal out of the fence than the lamp.” He raised his head, waiting for her answer, as though what she said mattered.

  “I admit I’m sad. The lamp was old and had lots of value to me. I can’t replace it like I can fix the fence. But I know you, Frank, and I know you’re not careless or malicious. Accidents happen. Please don’t make the situation more than that.”

  Allison didn’t wait to see his reaction, and when she came back with the broom and vacuum cleaner he was in the bathroom. It didn’t take long to brush up the larger pieces of glass. When she’d finished vacuuming the area thoroughly to be sure she had every particle off the floor, she turned to see him in the doorway. He was naked from the waist up. His slacks were zipped, but unbuttoned.

  “I think it’s safe to come in now.”

  He didn’t move. Though she knew he couldn’t see her, and she no longer had on the rustling taffeta dress, his eyes followed her as she pushed the vacuum far out of the traffic path, and set the broom and dustbin aside.

  “What time is it?” His stance was casual enough, one arm resting on the doorjamb. But she could feel the tension in him from across the room.

  “Almost two. I would have been coming down to wake you in a few minutes.” Four strides took her to the bed, where she straightened the covers and fluffed the pillows.

  Suddenly, the light went out. Thin moonlight barely illuminated the room but she could see Frank move unerringly toward her. Maybe he could see.

  Before she formulated the right questions, he enveloped her in his arms and rested his cheek on her head. “I wanted us to be on equal footing for a minute, while I tell you something.”