by Sandy Curtis
He must have understood what she was trying to say because his reaction was immediate.
“I’ll get you to a doctor. Can you walk?”
She nodded. He took her arm and guided her along the patio, then down a path running around the house to where his car was parked. He swiftly opened the door, swept her inside and fastened her seat belt. He slid into his seat and turned on the engine in one swift movement. Gravel spurted from beneath the spinning wheels as he roared out of the driveway.
Another hoarse cough racked her body and Jenna brought the puffer to her mouth in a valiant attempt to delay the inevitable. She knew that it was futile, she was already shaking in reaction to the large doses of the medication she had inhaled. It was a strange feeling, sitting there helpless while the humming and the swelling increased, knowing that all she could do was try to stay calm. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she fought back the panic and terror that threatened to engulf her.
Braden took out his mobile and spoke rapidly into it as he sped down narrow curving streets then up onto the motorway. On the long straight stretch his speed increased. Jenna turned to watch his profile.
She was shocked at how grim he looked. Dear God, she’d forgotten what tonight must mean to him. He was supposed to be announcing his plans to marry Veronica and instead he had had to leave the party without even telling Veronica where he was going. Had he been phoning her, explaining? No, no, she had heard him say a man’s name ... Ian or Andy. Her brain was fuzzy and it was too hard to remember. Her breathing was very laboured now.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. The sound was so soft she thought he must not have heard it. He didn’t break his concentration from his driving. At the speed they were travelling it would have been a foolish move. But he turned his head slightly to speak to her.
“I phoned an old friend of mine, Ian Barclay. He’s a doctor with his own surgery at home. We’ll be there soon.” He risked a swift glance at her. In the glare from the motorway lights he saw the blue tinge around her mouth. His foot flattened on the accelerator.
Jenna closed her eyes and tried to suppress the next bout of coughing, but it broke through in a harsh jarring burst that left her chest sore. The dizziness was worse now and she didn’t notice when they swung off onto the motorway exit and spun crazily through a maze of streets before braking outside a modern brick house.
She felt Braden’s arms gather her close to his body and he was almost running up the path to where a man stood silhouetted in an open doorway. She wanted to hold Braden close, tell him she loved him, but her arms didn’t have the strength and she had no voice to express the words.
She had never felt so fragile, so frightened. She buried her head against his neck and sobbed, a wheezing rasp of sound. The masculine scent of his skin was suddenly replaced by an astringent antiseptic smell as he laid her on a examining couch and she closed her eyes against a glaring light.
She felt cool hands swiftly assess her, then the sharp sting of a needle. She heard the murmur of voices as the doctor explained to Braden what to expect.
It felt like an eternity but she knew it wasn’t long before the humming eased and the swelling started to subside. Then the reaction to the adrenaline set in. Her heart started to pound and her breathing quickened. Nerves seemed to twitch all over her body.
She realised Braden was holding her hand. She opened her eyes. Her body was caught up in a medication roller-coaster; tears trickled down her cheeks. Braden took out a handkerchief and tenderly wiped them away.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Ian said you’ll be all right.”
The look of relief in his eyes and the gentle endearment sent fresh waves of tears spilling down her cheeks. He felt sorry for her! She wanted his love and she’d ended up with his sympathy, his pity. She closed her eyes as misery engulfed her.
“Just lie here a while until you feel better,” Braden said. “I just want to talk with Ian.”
She heard them walk into an adjoining room. She opened her eyes. A typical doctor’s surgery - she’d seen enough of them. Although the mural on the ceiling was a nice touch, something to keep the patient’s attention occupied while the doctor carried out examinations and minor procedures. A tropical jungle scene, with half hidden snakes, crocodiles, birds and other creatures. Especially good for diverting a child from what the doctor was doing, she thought.
Snatches of conversation wafted in through the half-open door. She concentrated on the ceiling and tried to blank out the sound of the voices.
By the time the two men returned to the room she had identified four species of snakes, seven birds, and was mentally adding a tree kangaroo to the list of animals. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, and Braden’s arm was around her shoulders instantly as she swayed unsteadily.
There was a wealth of tenderness in his eyes, and it broke her heart to see it. If only that’s what she had seen the night before, she would have gone back to his arms after comforting Caitlin. She would have given anything not to have seen the shock and horror that had been only too obvious.
The tenderness was there now, but it was too late. She had seen him with Caitlin and Alicia, knew how kind he was, how compassionate and supportive to those in need, knew that what she was seeing now was his sympathy for her, not his love.
She caught sight of herself in a mirror. Her hair was wild and unruly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. How humiliating. She had set out to make an impression, show Braden and Veronica that she was impervious to the pain they had inflicted on her, and instead she had had to be carted away like a Cinderella who didn’t really belong at the ball.
She slipped off the couch, shrugging away Braden’s steadying hand.
Ian Barclay was an average man in height and build, with light brown hair thinning at the temples, but a cherubic face that beamed goodwill like a 100 watt bulb. Jenna offered her hand, tried to thank him, but her voice was gone completely. She knew it would be many hours before it started to return, and then days before the hoarseness disappeared.
Ian took her hand in his.
“Have a warm drink when you get home, get some rest, and let Braden look after you.” His smile beamed with even greater brilliance at his last few words.
Jenna groaned inwardly. All she wanted was to be left alone, to get away from Braden as fast as she could. It was too cruel to be with him, knowing that he should be with Veronica, wanted to be with Veronica. The sexual attraction he felt for Jenna was obviously something he was prepared to ignore in order to have the marriage he had planned.
The drive back to the penthouse was silent. Jenna couldn’t speak and Braden apparently didn’t want to. Jenna looked out the window most of the time, only twice surreptitiously moving her head to sneak a glimpse at him. The first time he looked angry. The second even angrier. She didn’t look again.
Caitlin and the nanny were watching television when they walked in. At Caitlin’s worried look, Braden quickly explained that Jenna had been sick and had lost her voice but that she would be all right in the morning. To their dismay Caitlin started to cry and ran off to Jenna’s room, but she quickly returned with Jenna’s tablets.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. They felled out when I dropped your purse. I found them after you'd gone,” she cried, flinging herself at Jenna.
Jenna hugged her tightly, whispering that it was all right, all right, not to worry, everything was fine.
Braden turned to the nanny. "Could you put Caitlin to bed now, please?”
Jenna kissed the girl and handed her to the other woman. Then Braden’s hand was on her elbow.
“You’re going to bed, Jenna. No objections.” He propelled her gently up the hallway to her room. She turned to protest. She wasn’t an invalid and he wasn’t going to treat her like one.
“Now. I’ll bring you in a cup of tea.”
The determined set of his jaw and the formidable look on his face stopped her protest. It was hopeless - how could she argue with him
when she could barely even whisper.
She closed the door on him, unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor, pulled a nightgown over her head, and dived into the bed. She was tired, she had to admit. Tired, washed out, exhausted. And heart-broken.
There was a knock at the door, then Braden came in with a tray in his hands. He placed it on the bedside chest of drawers, then sat on the edge of the bed. He had taken his jacket and tie off and his shirt was unbuttoned three holes. The crisp white fabric accentuated the tan of his skin and her gaze was drawn like a magnet to the dark chest hairs. Memories of how they felt beneath her breasts taunted her and she pulled the bedcovers higher as her nipples swelled in response.
Braden still sat there, watching her, and Jenna realised he intended to sit there until she drank the tea. His eyes were tired smudges of grey, and there was a weary slump to his shoulders she had never seen before. But he was smiling, a gentle, caring smile. And her heart longed for him.
Sighing, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, pulling the covers with her, and reached for the cup. There was a piece of thick, buttered toast on a plate as well.
“You haven’t eaten. I cut the crusts off - I thought your throat might be sore,” he said gruffly.
It was so thoughtful, so caring, that tears stung her eyes and crept out the corners. She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. She wanted to bawl her eyes out, sob, kick the bed. She loved him so much and he was being so kind to her when she’d ruined his evening and all she wanted now was to fall into his arms and kiss him and make wild passionate love with him.
Instead she chewed the toast and forced it down over the lump in her throat that had nothing to do with the allergic reaction. She finished the tea, whispered thank you and sank down onto the pillow.
He continued to sit there, looking at her. Finally he stood.
“I said we’d talk, Jenna, and the temptation to do so while you’re not able to argue with me is almost irresistible.” A corner of his mouth raised in a quirky little smile that made her longing for him even more acute. “But you’re too exhausted right now. It can wait until tomorrow.”
Before she realised his intention, he dropped a light but lingering kiss on her lips. She drank in the taste of him. Her arms half rose in an instinctive need to embrace him, then dropped back to the bed. How could she be so weak - he was going to marry Veronica. But she loved and needed him so much that sanity disappeared when his flesh touched hers. His fingers gently touched her cheek. Then he walked swiftly from the room.
She didn’t want to get out of bed. In her teenage years before her body had started reacting to alcohol, particularly white wine, in such a disastrous manner, she had had one or two hangovers. But this was worse.
There were lead weights attached to her brain, lead boots on her feet, and razor blades in her throat. She was sure that if she moved the weights would ricochet around inside her skull and pulverize her brain. The thought was painful, but also tempting. Anything to put her out of her misery.
A gentle tap on her door flicked her eyelids open. Braden. Light blue short sleeved shirt tucked into dark grey trousers, casual leather shoes - not dressed for the office. How could he look so wonderful when she felt so hideous! He placed a tray on the bedside chest of drawers. A compote of fruit and tea and toast. Why did he have to be so kind when she wanted him to be awful so she could hate him. She knew she felt like a petulant brat but she couldn’t help it.
Had he gone back to the party last night? She wanted to ask him but was afraid of the answer. If he had then his engagement would have been announced. To Veronica. Her heart cried out that he didn’t need Veronica, he needed her. She would love him like he needed to be loved, so that all the hurt and pain his mother had inflicted would be healed by the sheer depth and unselfishness of her love.
“I’ve brought you some breakfast. I want you to take it easy today. Caitlin’s playing in her bedroom so don’t get up until you feel like it.”
“Thank you,” she croaked. He frowned at the raw sound, and vexation blazed fleetingly in the grey eyes. Oh, she must really have wrecked last night for him. If she’d felt bad yesterday morning it was nothing compared to how she felt now. At least then she thought there was a chance he might come to love her. Now she knew that he was determined to marry Veronica. Jenna doubted she would have the strength to stay and watch Veronica gloat. The sooner she was able to leave the better.
Six days. Could she survive? Could she bear the pain of seeing him every day, wanting him, loving him, while he went ahead making marriage plans with Veronica? Even the thought was agony. She blinked back the tears that threatened.
He gently cupped her cheek in one strong hand.
“I have to go out.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “I have to make my peace with someone.”
Jenna knew who that someone was. So he mustn’t have gone back to the party last night. A wicked hope taunted her. Perhaps Veronica would call off the marriage. Then she remembered Veronica’s viciousness. No, Veronica was determined to have Braden and nothing and no-one would stand in her way. She had almost caused Jenna’s death because of her drive to achieve that goal.
Braden walked to the doorway, then paused. “I’ll probably be a couple of hours. We’ll talk when I get back.”
Then he was gone.
Jenna had showered, dressed and was tidying up her room when the intercom buzzer sounded. Caitlin shot out of her bedroom and down the hall. By the time Jenna followed her, she had answered the call.
“It’s Mum! It’s Mum!” Happiness bubbled up in her big eyes and she pulled open the front door and waited impatiently as the elevator made its swift ascent. The elevator door had barely opened when she launched herself at her mother. Alicia laughed and gathered her daughter into her arms.
Jenna turned away, her eyes filmed with tears. Tears of happiness, tears of envy, tears of misery. Alicia followed Jenna into the lounge room. She wore white slacks and a red and white striped top and looked healthy and confident.
“I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here, Jenna?”
Jenna nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Her feelings were so fragile, so brittle, this morning that she was sure if she spoke the tears she had repressed all night would break through.
“I’ve been released. I’ve made such remarkable progress that the doctors have agreed that I’m fit enough to return and look after Caitlin. And it’s all thanks to you, Jenna.”
“Jinx’s been sick. Her throat’s all sore.” Caitlin chipped in, taking Jenna’s hand and leading both women to the lounge and sitting them down on either side of her. Jenna had to smile. Caitlin looked so happy, so pleased with the way her life was going.
“I’ll make some tea, you must be thirsty after the drive,” she said to Alicia. She saw the sympathy in the other woman’s eyes at the hoarseness of her voice.
She was grateful to busy herself with the tea things, it gave her time to think. With Alicia back she could leave. Her job was done, Caitlin was progressing well, and should continue to do so as long as she kept up the exercises. And Caitlin needed time with her mother. Preferably without Jenna there so that Alicia would once again become the pivot in her life.
Jenna knew she couldn’t bear to face Braden when he returned. His “talk” was probably an explanation of how he had been carried away by the sexual attraction between them, how sorry he was, but he was going to marry Veronica. Jenna had suffered enough humiliation at Veronica’s hands. If she left now at least she would be going with her dignity still intact. Because if Braden apologized for making love to her she was not sure if she could laugh it off and say it meant nothing to her - her nerves were in shreds thanks to last night’s medication and the effects of the allergic reaction on her system.
Over the tea Alicia explained that Braden didn’t know she had been released and she didn’t want to tell him before because he would insist on picking her up from the hospital and organizing her. She knew if she wa
s to gain control over her life she had to make her own decisions and carry them through herself. She had hired a car and driven herself up to Maroochydore.
She looked so pleased with herself, so sure of her new-found confidence, Jenna felt a surge of relief. If she left now it would be all right. Caitlin would no longer need her - she would have her mother.
When Caitlin told her mother she wanted to show her all the drawings she had done and raced off to her room to get them, Jenna took the opportunity to speak to Alicia.
“If it’s all right with you, Alicia, I’d like to leave this morning.”
“Leave?”
“Yes. Now that you’re back it’s a good idea for you and Caitlin to have as much time together as possible to catch up with one another. I don’t think I’ll have any problems getting a flight to Sydney today ...” the catch in her throat wouldn’t let her finish.
“Jenna, just because I’m back there’s no need for you to leave. Caitlin adores you. Surely you can stay a little longer?”
The warm concern in Alicia’s eyes was almost too much for Jenna. She didn’t want to leave, knew she would miss Caitlin fiercely, knew that not seeing Braden again would be painful almost beyond endurance.
“No. I’m sorry ... I can’t ...” the tears that had threatened all morning escaped and trickled down her cheeks. She dabbed at them with a tissue.
“Jenna, if I’ve said or done something to upset you, I’m sorry.” Tiny lines of distress crinkled Alicia’s forehead. Jenna knew she couldn’t let her think she was to blame.