Though he’d spent quite a bit of time in Minneapolis as a youth, and visited his mother there regularly since leaving town to seek a Hollywood film career of his own, she and Monica’s son had never met. Yet she had the oddest notion of knowing him. Or having run into him someplace—not just once, but on several occasions.
A moment later, she decided she knew whence it had sprung. Sadly lacking in refinement though he was, there’d been something about the way he smiled that reminded her of her father. Dad had little grooves like that beside his mouth, she remembered. And a similar way of shrugging when he didn’t want to spell things out for you. With all her heart, she wished he and her mother hadn’t died. If they were still around, the mess Jake’s in would quickly be resolved in his favor, she told herself.
As he walked into Annie’s room the following morning, Stephen realized he’d visit her in the hospital just one more time before she returned for her transplant. More pleased than he could have said that her temporary remission had taken such a firm hold, he couldn’t help regretting the precipitous drop in the number of opportunities he’d have to see her and Jess. Of course, the dark-haired woman who’d so captivated his heart would be obliged to bring her daughter into his office for weekly checkups.
“One more day, and you’re outa here,” he told Annie with a smile, keeping Jess in his peripheral vision as he listened to the girl’s heart with his stethoscope.
Annie giggled, having heard the American slang expression on television. “Mummy says we’ll be living in a nice little cottage down the road from your house,” she observed, dangling her skinny legs over the edge of her hospital bed as she gazed up at him. “Will you come to visit us?”
Ruffling the short blond fuzz that covered her beautifully shaped head, he stole a quick glance at her mother. “Of course I will, if you want me to,” he promised.
He needn’t say so unless he plans to follow through, Jess thought irritably, keeping her face expressionless. What’s this overture of his about, anyway? Don’t tell me the weather vane of his intentions is about to lurch in a new direction!
A few minutes later, Stephen found himself seated next to Lindsay in the transcription room on Annie’s floor. Offering his sympathy with regard to the way her brother’s case was going, he quickly switched the topic to Jess. “I understand you helped her move into the cottage yesterday,” he said. “Everything go all right?”
Lindsay nodded, the lion’s share of her attention absorbed by the chart she was updating. “Like I mentioned before, the place is perfect for them,” she murmured distractedly. “The only problem is her need for a car. I gave her a ride to the hospital this morning, and I plan to drive her home. But I won’t always be available.”
The casual remark posed an opportunity for him. To be around Jess is to want her, he acknowledged as he left the hospital after completing his paperwork and headed for some used-car lots he knew instead of pointing himself toward Lake Travis, as he usually did. Yet it’s like I’m poised at the end of a diving board, longing for her but afraid to dive into the commitment of loving her. Something’s got to give. If I don’t reverse course, and soon, whatever chance I have left with her will be forever lost.
After his thickheaded pronouncements at the cottage on the night they’d almost made love, he wasn’t sure what approach to take. There was a good possibility that she’d refuse to give him another chance whatever he said. At least I can help to solve her transportation problem, he thought. It would be a step in the right direction.
At the second lot he visited, an MG Midget in British racing green with a black convertible top was available at a minimal price. Though the car was old, and the model somewhat known for its eccentricity, the body appeared to be in good shape. By coincidence, he’d driven a similar car when he was in medical school, and done the mechanical work on it himself to save on expenses.
Removing his sport coat and rolling up his sleeves, he asked the salesman to turn the key and lift the hood. He got his hands extremely dirty checking everything out that could be checked with the car at a standstill. Though the engine could have benefited from a thorough steam cleaning, nothing obvious seemed to be amiss.
It was time to take the little convertible for a test-drive. Half an hour later, he was back at the lot, relatively satisfied. With a few minor adjustments, which he could make, the MG would be serviceable in the short run. Its English make meant it would also be somewhat familiar to Jess. The only thing that remained to be done was to introduce the two of them and see how they liked each other.
Given the fact that Lindsay usually worked late on Thursdays, Jess might still be at Minn-Gen. Taking out his cellular phone, he dialed the familiar number, requesting Annie’s room when the hospital operator came on the line. Unused to receiving many calls, as she was relatively new in Minneapolis, Jess answered with a question in her voice.
“Hi, it’s Stephen,” he said offhandedly, as if their falling-out had never taken place. “I went for a little ride after my rounds this afternoon, and I’ve spotted the perfect car for you. It seems to me you’ll need one if you plan to live on the Fortune estate for the next couple months. How would you like to leave Lindsay a note and come have a look?”
Silence greeted him as she assimilated his unexpected about-face. “I suppose you’re right about me needing a car,” she said at last, in a tone that wasn’t particularly warm but wasn’t as disparaging as he deserved. “I’ve been having similar thoughts myself. Lindsay just walked into the room, and she’s eager to leave. I suppose I could go with you, instead, if you’re free to take me home afterwards.”
Suspended between elation and relief that she hadn’t turned him down, Stephen decided it was the most he could expect.
Eight
Awash in conflicting emotions, Jess tried to stifle the scary but delicious feeling of letting Stephen look after her as he drove her to see the convertible he’d picked out. When they reached the used-car lot and got out of his Mercedes, she circled the MG warily, a skeptical expression on her face.
“Aren’t they known for being somewhat idiosyncratic?” she asked with a frown, refusing to let him see the thrill of potential ownership she felt. “Best left to mechanics, I believe my uncle once said. The absolute last thing I need to deal with right now is car repairs.”
Stephen shrugged, giving Jess her head. “Whatever you think,” he murmured. “She’s rather cute, though, in my opinion. I gave her a good going-over, and she’s quite a bargain at the price. As for repairs, I used to own one. If a problem should crop up, I still have my metric wrenches.”
Jess stared. He was saying he’d fix her car himself—a physician and a specialist! “I didn’t realize you were a surgeon, in addition to being a hematologist,” she deadpanned after a moment.
The burst of laughter they shared seemed to break the ice.
“C’mon,” Stephen coaxed. “Let’s take her for a spin. Aren’t you curious to see how she responds to a new mistress?”
Enchanted with the little convertible after a lengthy drive that took them to Minnehaha Park, past the famous statue of its namesake and Hiawatha, and gave them a glimpse of the forty-foot waterfall that cascaded into a wooded glen there, Jess was determined to buy it. Annie’s absolutely going to love it! she thought. Of course, with so little hair on her head and the ever-present danger of catching cold, she’ll have to wear a muffler and a stocking cap.
Writing out a check backed by her credit card number when they returned to the car lot, she watched as Stephen attached her temporary tag and checked the gas gauge.
“Just in case there’s something I overlooked, I’ll follow you home,” he offered, straightening.
Aware that their relationship was rife with fresh possibilities, she wasn’t about to tell him no. It gave her a warm and cozy feeling to see him in her rearview mirror as she drove the increasingly familiar route to Lake Travis, shifting gears with the ease of a pro.
To her surprise, when she reache
d the Fortune gate and paused to get out her magnetic entry card, he stopped the Mercedes, as well, and walked over to speak to her. “You drive your new baby like a champ,” he told her when she rolled down the window on the driver’s side.
Jess smiled, causing his heart to race. “The Cortina I drive at home has a straight shift,” she acknowledged. “It wasn’t such a feat.”
A moment of silence ensued in which they continued to gaze at each other. Unwilling to be parted from her with things so much improved between them, but afraid of inviting rejection if he asked himself in, Stephen was at a loss how to proceed.
“Look,” he said, “it’s late. And you’re probably tired. Our most recent evening together didn’t end particularly well, thanks to my stupidity. But the fact is, I’ve done a lot of thinking since then. And I realize I made a colossal mistake. I don’t suppose you’d consider giving us another try, and have dinner with me tonight?”
Leaning her chin on her hand in a gesture he knew, she regarded him in silence for a moment. “No, I don’t suppose I would,” she said at last, keenly aware she’d be bringing Annie home from the hospital in the morning. “But I’d be willing to cook for us, if that would suit.”
Now that it was September, the evenings had turned cool. To Stephen’s relief and amazement, he found himself building a fire in the cottage’s brick fireplace a few minutes later to help combat the chill. As he positioned the logs to create the proper draft and added kindling, Jess put the kettle on for tea. He had the cheerful blaze crackling by the time she was whipping up mixed greens and an incredible shepherd’s pie—reconstituted mashed-potato crust fluffed atop carrots, onions and chunks of browned, cut-up lamb in a rich improvised gravy.
They ate off blue-willow ironstone at the kitchen table, in the mellow glow of the overhead Tiffany lamp. How utterly good it is just to be here, Stephen thought, watching Jess as she talked and ate, occasionally laughing at something he’d said in the helpless but refined way she had that had never failed to captivate him. Real food for my stomach and a balm for my loneliness, if not a total nepenthe for the grief I may never fully erase.
It occurred to him that, Annie’s troubles aside, Jess, too, might have ghosts to bury in hallowed ground. Her husband of at least six years had died in a fiery automobile crash shortly before Annie was diagnosed, if a casual remark he’d overheard her make was any indication. Yet she’d been willing to take on the risk of making love to him.
Maybe to her sex didn’t equal commitment—at least not at first, in the salad days of a new relationship. Maybe he’d simply been around, an available man caught up in the same perilous and trying situation that was circumscribing her movements and claiming the lion’s share of her attention. But he doubted it. Everything about her suggested she was that much-prized combination of principled, old-fashioned girl and sexually awakened woman that most men dreamed of finding someday.
She was also the woman he wanted—so much that peace of mind had eluded him since he’d walked out on her. Though it meant taking a considerable risk, given the affliction of his past and the precariousness of Annie’s current situation, he wouldn’t burn his bridges again.
Following the meal and a quick cleanup operation in which they both rolled up their sleeves and participated, they gravitated to the living room, to sit on one of the overstuffed, lattice-printed couches in front of the fire. With the lamps turned low and Jess’s head resting on Stephen’s shoulder as they stared dreamily into the flames, it wasn’t long before they were nestled in each other’s arms.
Like love bites cunningly calculated to tantalize both body and soul, the kisses with which they claimed each other’s mouths quickly got out of hand. “Let me stay with you tonight,” Stephen pleaded, coming up for air. “Please, darlin’. I swear I won’t leave you dangling again.”
Could she trust him to keep his word, after what had happened on their first visit to the cottage together? Given the strength of her own wishes, she realized, the query was moot. From the depths of her womanliness, she needed him.
“If you do, I’ll have to find a new doctor for Annie,” she warned. “And I don’t want to do that.”
He didn’t want it, either. Annie was his patient. He cared deeply about her. He was determined to make her well, somehow. “That’s completely out of the question,” he said, his hands finding their way under her gray cashmere pullover to caress her slender rib cage. “I swear to God, Jess. You won’t have to do anything of the sort.”
Her eyes bright with the lust he knew must be mirrored back at her from his own, she took off the sweater completely for him. “Let’s make love right here on the living room floor,” she suggested, causing his arousal to stiffen and jut forward like a cannon barrel primed for shot. “The fire will keep us warm. And there are plenty of pillows.”
There wasn’t any further need for words. Silhouetted against the fire’s flickering red glow, they quickly stripped to the skin while watching each other with bated breath, then knelt on the pillows they’d arranged before it, thigh to thigh and mouth to mouth. I can’t believe this is really happening, Jess thought, delirious over her intimate contact with the evidence of his desire. That I’ve found the man I was born to love, here in America. And he won’t leave me till the morning light.
Cut adrift from his past, with one foot provisionally planted in the future, Stephen was reverently thumbing her nipples. She’s like some exquisite lyre for the gods, allowing mortal man to touch her, he fantasized.
Coherent thought became impossible as he traced a feather’s trajectory down her abdomen and slipped one hand into the velvet folds that guarded the apex of her longing. Stroking her gently, but with the inexorability of an avalanche videotaped in slow motion, he spurred his own heat as he awakened her to even more tumultuous craving.
She quickly realized that the force of what he was doing would sweep her away. “Stephen,” she begged, her lower body pressed urgently against him. “Please… I want you inside me when it happens.”
So precise and matter-of-fact when he was discussing courses of treatment with his patients, his rough-edged baritone became almost guttural. “We have all night for that,” he said, nipping at the delicate curve of her shoulder as he continued his ministrations. “Let me please you this way first.”
Though she’d been about to argue with him, Jess found she couldn’t summon the necessary speech. Given her expanding and flowering physical vocabulary, the spoken word seemed beside the point. Moving headlong toward the brink and hovering there for an infinity that lasted several seconds, she abruptly journeyed past it, dissolving in a paroxym of pleasure that racked her to the soles of her feet.
Though she’d experienced that type of orgasm before, she’d never known one of such oblivion and intensity. It was as if a powerful electrical current had discharged within her body, freeing her of tension and anxiousness.
Only subliminally aware of the way she’d cried out his name, adding the litany “Yes…yes…yes.” She sagged against him and buried her face against his neck.
“Ah, Jess,” he whispered, enfolding her and comforting her in her “little death” with the immediacy of his body. “You’re as genuine as the earth, sweetheart…so utterly damn wonderful that it breaks my heart.”
They started again when she’d quieted enough, with Stephen seated on a low hassock and Jess rocking astride his lap. Satisfied as she was, deep within her cells, she found herself soaring again as she watched his beautiful eyes glaze over with wanting her. Confounding the modest expectations her past had taught her, the massive discharge of erotic energy they produced together lifted her to a paradise inhabited by two, something she’d never before experienced.
As promised, her lanky blond lover lay tangled up with her beneath the woolen blanket that covered her double bed when morning came. Fortunately for the privacy of their newfound bliss, he was used to waking early.
“Jess…sweetheart…we forgot to phone Lindsay and tell her you bought a ca
r,” he whispered when she stirred and murmured something unintelligible against him. “I’d better be going, if we don’t want her to find me here when she arrives to give you a lift. I’ll see you when I show up in Annie’s room to sign her out, okay? Try not to let on you notice if I nibble on your fingertips. Or take a surreptitious bite out of your pretty neck.”
Released on schedule, Annie was delighted with the cottage and the roomful of creative playthings Jess had purchased in honor of her homecoming. She didn’t seem surprised, just happy to see him, when Stephen dropped by for supper, bringing a homecoming present of his own—a portable dollhouse with a resident family of four and tiny, perfect furniture. Or think it odd that he spent most of the weekend with them, departing for his own home, a short distance away, only when bedtime neared. On Monday, when he had to put in a full day at the hospital again, she remarked with five-year-old perspicacity that the cottage seemed awfully empty without him.
Their unseen neighbor on the estate, Jake, chose Monday to show up at his downtown office for the first time since his arrest. The effort didn’t begin well. Somehow—perhaps they had him under surveillance?—the Minneapolis police got wind of his movements and an exchange regarding them was broadcast over the police radio. As a result, a pack of eager newshounds was waiting for him when his chauffeur dropped him off at the Fortune Building’s main entrance.
Angrily brushing aside their questions, which centered on his parentage and the affidavits Monica had been using to blackmail him, he shielded his face from their whirring motor drives and brightly lit video cameras as he escaped into a key-operated express elevator and shot to the building’s top floor.
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