Red Rose For Love

by Carole Mortimer

  'Eve, for God's sake!' the voice rasped. 'I know you can hear me, you just smiled. Eve, for God's sake open your eyes!'

  She frowned. She did know that voice, it belonged to Bart Jordan. God, if she was going to hallucinate why couldn't it be about someone she liked!

  'Open your eyes, damn you!' he ordered sharply.

  'Don't you swear at me,' she said in a choked rasping voice. 'This is my hallucination,' her bottom lip quivered emotionally. 'The least you could do is be nice to me.' Tears squeezed out below her heavy lids. She heard a muttered curse, and then, wonder of wonders, arms came about her, warm protective arms, not beckoning and enticing like the cold water, but solid human arms that sought to give comfort.

  'Eve,' his voice was next to her ear now, his breath stirring her hair, 'if you'll just open your eyes, darling, you'll see I'm very real.'

  She swallowed hard, afraid to do as he asked, terrified of losing him, of being alone again. But the arms felt real, painfully so as they tightened about her frail body. Her lids fluttered open with effort, and she looked straight up into deep green eyes, the lamplight behind Bart showing him big and strong, the darkness outside surrounding them like a cloak.

  'Bart...' she croaked.

  He gave a tight smile, a pulse working erratically at his jaw line. 'God, Eve,' he breathed huskily, 'you've had me worried out of my mind!'

  She frowned. 'I—I have?' Each word was an effort, her throat very dry.

  His arms tightened. 'When I saw you—when I found you—Oh God, I thought you were dead!' His lips feverishly caressed her brow.

  Her dry lips curved into a wan smile. 'Did you think you'd lost your investment?' She had tried to tease, to ease the strain he appeared to be under, but somehow the words came out all wrong, and Bart's face darkened with anger.

  'It's in your favour that I know how weak you are,' he snapped, scowling heavily, 'or else I'd put you over my knee and give you the hiding you deserve for that remark.'

  'That's the second time you've threatened me,' she recalled softly, glad that he still held her. He nodded impatiently. 'The third time I may find you strong enough to take your punishment.'

  She frowned. 'You wouldn't really hit me?'

  'No,' he sighed as she seemed to flinch. 'Much as I know it would give you pleasure to think it, beating women has never been one of my faults. I have plenty of others—which I'm sure you'll be only too happy to tell me about once you're well again.'

  She licked her lips. 'I—Could I have a drink, please?'

  'Of course, how stupid of me.' His arms dropped away and he moved to the jug that stood on the side table.

  'Iced water,' he told her, helping her sit up and drink some of the refreshing liquid. Eve lay back with a sigh, looking up trustingly at him. 'Thank you.'

  Bart smiled. 'I think I like you all weak and helpless,' and he moved to sit on the chair beside the bed.

  'No!' She looked up at him pleadingly. 'Sit here,' she patted the bed beside her. He frowned. 'Eve----'

  'Oh, please, Bart.' Tears flooded her eyes. 'I was alone for so long. I—I thought I was going to die alone. I need you to hold me ' Her voice broke emotionally as she turned away, hating having to beg. 'It was so dark,' she recalled in a tortured voice. 'The water was so cold, and—and yet inviting.' She turned bright blue eyes on him. 'I thought of giving in to its beckoning,' she admitted chokingly, knowing she had to talk about it or dam it up in the back of her mind like some guilty secret.

  'God, no!' Bart pulled her roughly against the hard wall of his chest, his face now grey beneath his tan. 'Not you, Eve,' he shook his head. 'I don't believe it.'

  'Yes,' she insisted softly.

  His arms tightened, his cheek resting on the top of her head. 'What stopped you?'

  'I — Oh, I don't know.' She moved her shoulders helplessly, knowing he was the reason she hadn't died, her dislike of him. But she didn't dislike him any more — how could she? She owed him her life twice over, once for giving her the will to crawl out of the water, and once for finding her before she died of the wet and the cold. She couldn't dislike him, she owed him too much.

  'Eve?' he prompted huskily.

  She burrowed against his chest. 'Tell me how you came to find me. Why did you go to the houseboat?'

  'I'm not sure I should tell you anything,' he said sternly. 'This is a hospital, you know, and I think we may have talked too long already.'

  Eve frowned, looking around the room with new eyes. It didn't look like a hospital room, it looked like a bedroom in a house, although it wasn't usual to have a television in a bedroom, not in the houses she knew anyway. She looked up at Bart. 'Have I been very ill?'

  He nodded absently smoothing the hair at her temple. 'You still are. The doctors only just stopped the infection on your chest from turning to pneumonia.'

  'Oh,' she gulped.

  'Mm,' he agreed grimly. 'You've been here a week now, and listening to you trying to breathe . . .' he shook his head. 'It was pure agony,' he groaned.

  'You've been here a lot?'

  'Quite a bit. We still haven't been able to contact your godparents.'

  'Derek?' she probed.

  'He's been here every day as well, Judy too. We've taken it in turns to sit with you. Which reminds me, I'd better let the doctor know you're awake.'

  She grasped his hand as he would have moved away, gaining strength just from touching him. 'You aren't going to leave me?' she said desperately.

  Bart looked down at her with brooding eyes, his gaze passing down to where she had entwined her fingers with his.

  'You don't want me to?' he questioned huskily.

  'No.'

  'Then I won't,' he .smiled gently. 'But you'll have to let go,' he held up their joined hands. 'I have to ring for the nurse,' he explained.

  Colour flooded her cheeks, made even more noticeable against the paleness of her cheeks. 'I'm sorry,' she released his hand, 'I—I didn't mean to cling.' She turned her face into the pillow, biting her bottom lip to stop the tears from flowing. She felt so weak, so helpless, this man the only solid thing in her world at the moment. Gentle fingers came under her chin to turn her to face him. 'Cling all you want Eve,' Bart told her. 'After what you must have gone through you have the right.'

  Her bottom lip trembled precariously. 'No reprimands? No "I told you so's"?'

  'Not yet. But later,' he added grimly.

  She had thought he was letting her off lightly. Once she was well she felt sure, she would know the full extent of his displeasure. And strangely she didn't resent his presence in her life any more, her dislike had evaporated. In its place she felt relief at being alive, and also—also she found herself liking the casual elegance with which Bart wore his cream trousers and dark green shirt, liked the way the shirt showed off his powerful shoulders and flat tapered waistline, the way the trousers moulded to his slim hips and muscular thighs. For the first time she was noticing—

  and appreciating—how handsome Bart was.

  Carl was a thing of the past, and Bart was proving all the time that he was nothing like him. Carl wouldn't have wasted time sitting with her, the one time she had had a cold he had told her to call him once she was well again—

  at his office, of course, never at his home.

  Bart turned from ringing for the nurse, frowning as he saw she was watching him. 'What are you thinking?' he demanded to know.

  She smiled. 'You still haven't told me why you were at the houseboat,' she reminded him, not willing to disclose her thoughts to this man, not yet. Her barriers weren't down enough for that.

  'That's because the question doesn't really need an answer. I was looking for you, of course.' He moved back to sit on the side of the bed.

  She quirked a teasing eyebrow. 'After telling me you didn't care if I killed myself?'

  Instead of the answering smile she had been expecting he scowled heavily. 'I didn't expect you to take me literally!'

  'Oh, Bart-----'

  A young nu
rse quietly opened the door. 'You rang, Mr—Miss Meredith! Her face brightened. 'You're awake!'

  Eve returned the girl's smile. 'Yes.'

  The nurse nodded. 'I'll just let the doctor know.' She left the room as quietly as she had entered. Eve frowned. 'Just where am I?' The thought had suddenly occurred to her.

  'Norwich,' Bart supplied.

  That's what she had thought, the nurse's accent was unmistakably the Norfolk dialect. 'Then shouldn't you be in London?' she puzzled.

  'I should be,' he agreed. 'But I could hardly just leave you here.'

  'Oh.' Her lashes lowered to hide the sudden pain in her eyes.

  'Not that I wanted to,' he teasingly knocked her chin with his fist. 'You are feeling sensitive, aren't you?'

  She bit her lip. 'I suppose I am. Sorry.'

  'And all this meekness isn't you either,' he mocked.

  Eve looked up, her eyes flashing. 'I'm sorry if you don't like it!' she snapped. He smiled. 'That's better. I wouldn't know you if you started being pleasant to me.'

  Her expression changed to one of guilt, the fire dying from her eyes. 'I've been a bitch to you, haven't I?' she sighed.

  'You have—but I'll forgive you if you promise to get better. By the way, you've become an overnight sensation,' he taunted.

  Her eyes widened. 'I have?'

  'Mm,' Bart nodded. 'As far as the public are concerned you seem to nave disappeared off the face of the earth. Your absence is certainly making the heart grow fonder, your record has reached number twenty in the charts.'

  'But it was only forty-nine last week!'

  'The press seem to think you've done a Greta Garbo on them,' he grinned. 'You know "I want to be alone", so your doting public are buying what appears to be your last record.'

  'It is,' she told him quietly. 'If you manoeuvred for my contract thinking you would make a lot of money from me then you're going to be out of luck. I'm never going into a recording studio again.'

  A pulse beat erratically at his jaw, and he stood up. 'I didn't manoeuvre for your contract at all, Derek offered it as an act of good faith,' he said harshly. 'Remind me to tell you some time why I did accept it.'

  Eve looked up at him, wishing she could see behind the guarded green eyes. 'Why not now?' she queried huskily.

  'Because now obviously isn't the right time,' he dismissed tersely.

  'Why----'

  The doctor came in at that moment, followed closely by the friendly young nurse, and asked Bart to leave so that they could examine her.

  'Bart!' Eve's strangled cry stopped him at the door.

  He turned slowly, frowning. "Yes?'

  She licked her lips, suddenly nervous of how important he had become to her. 'You—you aren't leaving, are you?'

  Her eyes were unknowingly haunted.

  'I-----'

  'Mr Jordan will have to leave in a few minutes,' the doctor interrupted firmly. 'Now that you're over the worst I think he should get some rest himself. I don't want another patient on my hands,' he added lightly. She bit her lip guiltily, looking down at her hands. 'Of course,' she said quietly. 'I'm sorry, Bart.' She looked up, her expression deliberately guarded. 'Of course you should go and rest.'

  He frowned broodingly, shooting the doctor an impatient look. 'I'll come back and see you before I go.'

  'Just for a few minutes,' the doctor warned.

  'I'll be back,' Bart repeated in a strong voice, his gaze reassuring on Eve. 'Perhaps we could talk when you've finished, Doctor?' His voice hardened angrily, his stance one of challenge. Eve saw the younger man flush, and wondered how many other men would dare to talk to a doctor in such a way. Not many, she would wager. And it was all her fault!

  'I'm sorry,' she told the doctor once Bart had gone outside to wait until the examination was over. ‘I’m afraid Bart—

  Mr Jordan's anger was my fault.' She looked up anxiously.

  'Not at all,' the doctor dismissed easily. 'Mr Jordan has been under great strain. We've hardly been able to pry him away from your side day or night. I would appreciate your help in getting him to go back to his hotel and sleep.'

  'Of course,' she nodded eagerly, silent as he examined her. Bart had been with her day and night? But he had said he, Derek and Judy had taken it in turns to sit with her, yet the doctor certainly wasn't giving that impression. And he had called her 'darling' when she first woke up. What did it all mean?

  The doctor stood back, his examination complete. 'Well, everything is in order,' he smiled. 'I expect you would like to sleep now?'

  Considering that she was supposed to have been asleep for the past week she was still very tired. 'When can I have this taken away?' she indicated the needle going into her arm feeding her liquid from the plastic bag suspended above the bed.

  'Now, if you like,' again he smiled.

  'I like,' she accepted eagerly, finding the plastic tubing from the bag to the needle rather cumbersome.

  'Nurse Evans will do that while I step outside and talk to Mr Jordan,' he said briskly. Eve turned away as the hollow plastic needle was removed from her arm; the skin felt very tender there. "Why did I have that?' she frowned, finding her arm felt slightly stiff.

  Nurse Evans taped a dressing over the tiny puncture mark in her arm. 'You weren't taking in any fluid yourself, and so to stop you becoming dehydrated this was giving you some. Now that you're awake and can drink for yourself it's no longer necessary. You can probably eat a little tomorrow too. I'd better go now and let Mr Jordan come in and say goodnight.' She gave a conspirational smile. 'All the nurses on this ward have fallen for your boy-friend, Miss Meredith.'

  ‘Oh, but he isn't --------‘

  'No, I'm not,' Bart said from the open doorway. 'But you can thank your colleagues for me, Nurse Evans.’ he added with a smile, a smile that Eve could see didn't reach his pebble-hard eyes. The young nurse fled, an embarrassed tinge to her cheeks as she hurried out the door he held open for her. Eve giggled. ‘Now you've embarrassed her.'

  There was no answering smile for her on Bart's compressed lips. 'The doctor tells me that you endorse his opinion that I should leave you now,' he said curtly.

  'I — Well, I - ' she frowned as she tried to remember exactly what she had said. 'I don't think those were my exact words,' she finished lamely, knowing Bart was deeply displeased by the way he still scowled at her.

  'Then what the hell did you say?' He pulled the chair out next to the bed, and sat down abruptly, looking very dark in the light from the small night-light the doctor had left on.

  Eve plucked nervously at the sheet. 'I think I — I agreed with him that you looked tired.'

  'Then you do want me to leave?' he snapped.

  'I — I — Oh, Bart!' she looked at him appealingly. 'It wasn't meant that way. But you need rest - '

  He stood up forcefully. 'Then I'd better go, hadn't I? No doubt Derek and Judy will be in to see you in the morning.'

  He moved to the door.

  'Bart!'

  He turned with barely controlled anger. 'What now?'

  'What now?' as if he had done enough for her, wasted enough time, already. And hadn't he? Wasn't it solely due to him that she was even alive? And he had been in Norfolk for a week when his work and friends were in London. He was no doubt paying for this private room too. Yes, he had done enough for her already.

  'Nothing.' She shook her head, felling bade on the pillow, holding back her tears with difficulty. 'I suppose you'll be returning to London tomorrow?'

  Bart frowned, pushing back his fair hair with impatient fingers. 'And why should you think that?' he asked slowly.

  'Because I—You've been away from your—friends long enough.'

  His mouth twisted. 'If you mean mistress, Eve, then say mistress. Or doesn't that word come easily to your pure little lips?'

  The sneering tone had her searching his face anxiously. Why on earth was he so angry all of sudden? He had been so tender when she had first woken up, now he was back to being the sarcastic st
ranger of their first meeting. Her chin rose to meet his challenge. 'I didn't specifically mean your mistress, I meant your family and friends in general. They must think it very strange the way you've suddenly taken yourself off to Norfolk.'

  His hand still rested on the door handle, preparing to leave. 'My family and—friends know better than to question my movements.'

  'Oh.'

  'But I think I'll take up your suggestion and leave.'

  'Oh, but-----'

  'Yes?' His eyes were narrowed.

  Just that one word was enough to make the protest the in her throat. 'Nothing,' she mumbled, looking down at the nervous movements of her hands.

  'A few days in London should be enough to deal with any pressing—business that may have occurred in my absence.'

  She felt really guilty now. 'Of course. I—I'm sorry if I've been a nuisance.'

  He reached the bedside in two angry strides, grasping her arms painfully in his strong fingers. 'Stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself!' and he shook her.

  'I'm sorry----'

  'For God's sake stop it!' He pulled her sharply up against him, looking fiercely down at her, his breathing hard and erratic.

  Time seemed to stand still as violet-blue eyes gazed up into deeply green ones, neither of them saying a word, Eve almost afraid to move. Close to like this she could see the gold flecks amongst the green of his eyes, could see how long and silky his lashes were, darkly so, a shadow across his jaw where he was in need of a shave. She could also smell the potent aroma of his aftershave, his basically male smell that attacked the senses, making her feel almost dizzy.

  'Bart...' Was that aching sound really her voice? It sounded totally unlike her. Bart obviously thought so too, as he thrust her away from him.

  'Get some sleep,' he ordered tersely. 'I'll be back from London in a few days. If you need me for anything Derek has my telephone number there.'

  Then he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him. Eve stared at that door for several minutes, willing him to come back. But he didn't, and finally it was the tears that came, deep, racking sobs that had soaked her pillow within minutes.

  How had it happened? Why had it happened? When had it happened? When had she fallen in love with Bart Jordan? Or had her antagonism towards him always been leading to this, had she sensed this danger from the first and run from it?