Dream Mender

by Sherryl Woods

“A couple of bucks, less than I would have spent to go to a movie, and I can’t even get to a movie.”

  “What about you?” she said to Otis.

  “About the same.”

  “And added to what you’ve lost this week, how much does that make it?”

  Frank interrupted before Otis could respond. “Look, it’s my fault, okay? I was bored. I suggested the game. A little cash made it more interesting. That doesn’t mean we’re all candidates for Gambler’s Anonymous.”

  “Maybe not you and Pam,” she said pointedly.

  Otis rose slowly to his feet. He glowered down at her. With his size, it would have made Frank think twice about arguing with him. It didn’t daunt Jenny in the slightest.

  “Don’t you try to intimidate me, Otis Johnson,” she said. “I thought you wanted to buy a new car, find a nicer apartment. How do you expect to do that if you keep losing your shirt on these crazy bets. Dammit, Otis, you promised.”

  It seemed a lot of people were making promises to Jenny that they weren’t keeping. Frank almost felt sorry for her, but he wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about. Making a few bets was no big deal.

  “Ain’t nothing crazy about betting on a flush, king-high,” Otis grumbled.

  “Did you win?”

  “The kid had a full house. What can I say?”

  Jenny sighed. “I don’t get it. Where’s the fun in throwing away your money like that?”

  “Stick around and I’ll show you,” Frank offered.

  “I’m not betting one dime in a card game.”

  “You won’t have to,” he promised. He exchanged a look with Otis who apparently guessed his intentions. The orderly suddenly glanced at his watch.

  “Break’s over,” the orderly said hurriedly. “Come on, Pam, I’ll give you a push back to your room. Leave those coins on the floor. I’ll pick ’em up later.”

  “And bring me my share,” Pam warned.

  “Don’t worry, kid. You’ll get what’s coming to you,” he promised.

  When they’d gone, Frank waved Jenny toward a chair. “Take a seat.” He nodded toward the cards. “You’ll have to shuffle and deal. Just sit the cards in this contraption Otis rigged up.”

  She scowled at him. “This is ridiculous.”

  “You wanted to see why we think poker’s so much fun. I’m going to show you. Deal. Five cards.”

  He watched the way Jenny handled the cards and suddenly the temperature in the room seemed to soar about ten steamy degrees. He imagined those strong, supple hands working their magic on him. The effect on his body was immediate and downright uncomfortable. If Jenny had any idea of what the stakes were now, she’d have run for her life. Instead she shuffled intently.

  “You might consider locking the door,” he said blithely.

  She shot him a startled look. “Why?”

  “The game I had in mind isn’t meant for observers.”

  Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “I thought we were playing poker.”

  “We are. Strip poker.”

  The cards hit the table with a smack. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh no you don’t, Frank Chambers. Are you out of your mind?”

  “What’s the matter?” he inquired innocently. “Chicken? You have to admit it would be a whole lot more fascinating than nickles and dimes.”

  “In your dreams.”

  He nodded cheerfully. “That’s as good a place as any to start.”

  She bundled up the deck of cards and stalked to the door. “If I catch you trying to lead Otis and Pam astray again, I’ll…” She seemed suddenly at a loss for words.

  “What?” he taunted, grinning.

  “I don’t know, but you won’t like it.”

  His smile widened. “Bet I will.”

  “You are impossible.”

  “You wouldn’t want to bet on that, would you?”

  Jenny groaned. “I think maybe I liked you better when you were surly and unresponsive.”

  “That’s just because you don’t trust yourself around me now.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “That’s where you’re wrong. In fact, that’s one bet I’d take you up on.”

  “Liar,” he taunted, but he said it to her back just before the door slammed behind her.

  * * *

  Okay, so she lied. Jenny wasn’t quite sure what to make of this mellower Frank Chambers or her own response to him. Though his initial anger had impeded his progress at times, at least it was an emotion she understood. Now, suddenly, his personality had undergone a complete turnaround. He was joking with the staff, playing cards with Otis, no longer badgering the doctors for his release. He was hardly meek, but he was cooperative. She should have been grateful. Instead she was scared to death. He spent so much time in the therapy room these days, he could have taken over with the other patients. Whenever he was there, she had trouble concentrating. Her gaze kept shifting to him, and each time it did, her pulse raced.

  As a patient in trouble, Frank had been someone in need of caring, in need of her help. Now she could no longer ignore the warm-as-honey, deep-inside response she felt to the sexy, generous man. The transition endangered her objectivity. Far worse, in the long run she feared it endangered her heart.

  She was sitting in the therapy room stirring cream into her coffee when Carolanne came in and sank down in the chair across from her.

  “What a day,” the other therapist declared wearily. “It’s days like this that make me wish I sold little cones of frozen yogurt for a living. No stress. No life-or-death crisis. No temper tantrums.”

  “Obviously you’ve never been around a three-year-old whose cone just upended on the ground.”

  “It couldn’t possibly be any worse than this,” she said fervently, then turned her full attention on Jenny. “Come to think of it, you don’t look so perky yourself. Even your curls have lost their bounce. What’s the story, or need I ask? What’s the gorgeous Frank Chambers done now?”

  “He invited me to play strip poker.”

  Carolanne’s eyes danced with amusement. “Well, well, that is progress. Talk about incentives to get those hands working again. You’ve obviously inspired him. You should be proud.”

  “Proud? The man terrifies me.”

  “Because you’re responding to him, right? So what’s the big deal? It’s about time you let yourself fall in love again.”

  “Who said anything about falling in love? All I mentioned was a sneaky attempt to get my clothes off.”

  “A man like that would not strip you naked in a hospital room unless his intentions were very serious.”

  Jenny groaned and put her head down on her arms. “This isn’t happening.”

  “What isn’t happening?”

  “Frank Chambers is not interested in me and I am definitely not interested in him.”

  Carolanne nodded slowly. “Okay. I think I get it. Nothing’s happening between the two of you, so there’s no reason for you to go crazy, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then why have you added cream to a cup of cold water?”

  Jenny glanced down and saw the murky white liquid in the coffee cup. “Oh, dear Lord.”

  “He might give you an answer,” Carolanne said. “But there’s someone a lot closer who could really clear things up.”

  “Who?”

  “Frank Chambers.”

  “He can’t clear anything up. He’s the problem.”

  “Why?”

  “If I knew that, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Carolanne looked more bewildered than ever. “One of us in this room is going to be in need of psychiatric counseling very shortly, and something tells me it’s going to be me unless you start talking plain English.”

  Jenny drew in a deep breath. “All patients tend to form a bond with their therapist, true?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what Frank thinks he feels for me is no more than a passing infatuation, right? Maybe mixed in with some gratitude?”

&n
bsp; “That’s not the look I saw in his eyes, but I’ll go along with you for the sake of this conversation.”

  Jenny shot her a disgruntled look. “I should be used to that kind of reaction. It’s never bothered me before.”

  Carolanne’s expression suddenly brightened with understanding. “But it does this time, because you’re falling for him.”

  “I am not!” Jenny’s blurted denial echoed in the therapy room.

  Her friend sighed. “If you say so, though why you’re fighting it is beyond me. At least half a dozen nurses on the unit are taking bets on which one can win the man’s heart, and he hasn’t asked any of them to play strip poker. I’m going home to my simple, uncomplicated cat.”

  Jenny mustered a faint smile. “There is nothing uncomplicated about Minx. She’s as neurotic as the rest of us.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Carolanne said, getting her purse from her locker. She paused at the door. “Call if you need me, okay?”

  “Sure. Thanks for listening.”

  When the other therapist had gone, Jenny tried to concentrate on some of the supervisory paperwork entailed in the job, the paperwork she couldn’t seem to get done when Frank was in the room. She couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for it now, either. An hour later, tired of fighting the inevitable, she headed back down the hall to Room 407.

  Outside Frank’s door, she could hear the deep rumble of conversation, the frequent bursts of laughter. Opening the door a crack, she peered inside and saw that he was once again surrounded by family. One of the men, a little shorter and stockier than Frank but unmistakably a Chambers, was holding up a handful of paint chips. It had to be Jared, she thought, grinning at the sight of all those shades of blue.

  Just as she was about to let the door drift closed, Frank looked up, his gaze locking with hers. That jolt of awareness that came each time their eyes met shot through her. Her knees nearly buckled with the shock of it.

  “Hey,” he called softly. “Come on in. You’re the one who got me into this. You have to choose.”

  Half a dozen pairs of fascinated eyes immediately turned to her. Jenny tried to ignore the not-so-subtle exchange of glances—from Jared to Frank to Tim to Karyn and yet more of the Chambers brothers she had yet to meet. The family resemblance was obvious, though.

  As if they’d sensed her discomfort, every one of the brothers began to talk at once, spurred by Karyn’s blatant attempt to distract them with what was clearly a familiar family argument. In the midst of the chaotic babble, Jenny’s gaze sought Frank’s again. The look in his eyes drew her closer. “Sit here,” he said, sliding over on the bed until there was room on the edge.

  Seated next to him, hip to hip, her pulse skittered wildly. He held out the dozen or so paint chips. “What do you think?”

  The shades ranged from vivid royal blue to palest turquoise, from chalky Wedgewood to deepest azure. The one that drew her, though, was the clear blue tint that matched Frank’s eyes.

  “This one,” she said at once, suddenly oblivious to the crowd of fascinated onlookers. She was surprised when a heated debate erupted over the choice.

  “Why that one?” Tim demanded.

  “I’ll bet I know,” Karyn said, meeting Jenny’s gaze with a look of instinctive feminine understanding.

  Jenny found herself grinning despite the risk of embarrassment. “I’ll bet you do, too.”

  “Why?” came the masculine chorus.

  “Never mind,” Karyn said briskly, giving Jenny’s hand a warm squeeze. “Let’s get out of Frank’s hair, you guys. I think he’s due for another therapy session.”

  “At this hour?” Jared said, then blinked rapidly at a forceful nudge from his sister. “Oh, yeah. Just like the other night. Let’s go, guys.”

  “Pretty intuitive bunch,” Frank said when they’d swarmed out. “Is that what you had in mind, a little therapy?”

  Jenny shook her head. “I’m not sure what I had in mind.”

  “Maybe an apology?”

  Her defenses slammed into place. “From me? I haven’t done anything to apologize for.”

  “No, but I have. I guess I didn’t realize that you were really worried about Otis’s gambling. I’ve been thinking about your reaction ever since you left here this afternoon. I’m sorry if I did anything to make it worse.”

  She shook her head, weariness settling in. “I shouldn’t blame you. I can’t run his life for him. All I can do is encourage him to get help if it gets out of hand. I have a hunch he makes it sound a whole lot worse than it is just to bug me.”

  “Has he ever borrowed money from you?”

  “A few dollars before payday, but he’s always paid it back. Other people around here have given him loans, too.” She stood up and began to pace. “He’s not a deadbeat, though. I don’t think he’s really in debt to anybody. If it were just a form of entertainment like going to the movies, I wouldn’t worry so, but he seems a little compulsive about it.”

  “And I took advantage of that just to keep from being bored. It won’t happen again.”

  “Thanks.”

  His gaze fastened on her. “So if you didn’t stop by to drag an apology out of me, why did you come?”

  “Must be your charming company.” She tossed the words out casually, but she sensed that her nervous pacing of the room betrayed her. Frank seemed to see right through her.

  “Want to tell me what’s really on your mind?” he said quietly. He moved to where she stood by the window.

  She wondered what he’d do if she simply blurted out that he was affecting her deeply in a way that made her long for things she’d nearly forgotten: love, family, companionship, romance. Not that she was likely to make that kind of an admission and damage their professional rapport.

  “Maybe this?” he suggested, leaning close to brush his lips across hers.

  The kiss was no more than the whisper of butterfly wings, but it rocked her. When his arms clumsily drew her closer, she stiffened, then relaxed into the wonderful sensation. His lips covered hers again and this time there was nothing sweet or innocent about the touch. It was all heat and hunger and claiming. If the first had been a gentle spring rain, this was all lightning and thunder. Just when she felt as if the world might be spinning off its axis, buffeted by the powerful force of that kiss, he pulled back.

  “Of course, I could be wrong,” he said in a voice that was meant to be light, but seemed somehow choked. The blue of his eyes was shades darker than the color she’d matched only moments before.

  Jenny couldn’t seem to catch her breath or to form a single sensible thought. She was still caught up in the taste and feel of that potent kiss.

  “We could always play poker,” he teased, when she remained silent.

  She finally found her voice and even managed a little feigned indignation. “Forget it. I hid the cards.”

  “If you really want to stick around, we could watch TV.”

  That struck her as innocuous enough. “Okay.”

  Frank moved back to the bed and hit the remote control to turn it on. “There’s room next to me, if you’d care to snuggle up.”

  That kiss made her cautious. She grinned and pulled up the chair. “Don’t press your luck.”

  “Too bad there’s no popcorn. What’s a movie date without popcorn?”

  The cozy image was too appealing to ignore. “I could go get some from the vending machine and put it in the microwave.”

  “Do you want some, too?”

  She thought about it and nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’m starved.”

  It wasn’t until she’d come back with the popcorn and the sodas that she realized exactly how devious Frank’s suggestion really was. The only way he could eat the buttery kernels was if she sat next to him on the bed and fed them to him.

  “You’re a sneak,” she accused as she perched uneasily by his side. “And don’t turn that innocent look on me. You’re about as innocent as Don Juan.”

  “You didn’t have to
share the popcorn,” he argued.

  “Sure. I could have stayed in the chair, munched away and watched you pout.”

  “You wouldn’t have done that.”

  “You think you know me pretty well, don’t you?”

  “Well enough.”

  “And?”

  “I think you’ve finally decided to stop fighting me.”

  Jenny sighed and gave herself up to the unfamiliar feeling of contentment that was stealing over her, to the memory of that intense kiss. “Just for tonight.”

  For once, Frank didn’t argue with her. “That’s a start, sweetheart. That’s a start.”

  Chapter Six

  Frank felt as if he’d been sucker-punched. After days of progress, after days of focusing more intently on Jenny then on his own situation, he suddenly slammed into reality. The bandages were off for good, the skin healed over sufficiently to avoid the danger of infection. He stared at his badly scarred hands as if they belonged to someone else.

  Sure, he’d glimpsed them during other dressing changes, but somehow he’d been expecting an improvement, some miracle that would cause the scars to vanish overnight. Now Dr. Wilding was telling him matter-of-factly that wouldn’t happen, that the redness would fade eventually, but the scarring was permanent. He tried to imagine spending the rest of his life with this kind of disfigurement. He’d thought it wouldn’t bother him. Now his stomach churned at the prospect.

  “Not bad,” the doctor murmured in satisfaction. “You’re lucky, young man. It could have been worse.”

  Lucky? What was lucky about having hands that ought to be covered with gloves around the clock? He tried to remind himself of the way they’d looked before, of the nicks and cuts, the calluses that had made his work-roughened hands anything but picture perfect. Even that had been a hell of an improvement on this.

  Frank finally tore his gaze away from the fresh scars and dared to meet Jenny’s eyes. His whole body tensed as he waited for some faint sign of repulsion.

  She was frowning, her lower lip caught between her teeth, but he’d come to realize over the past few days that she did that often, whenever she was worried or deep in thought. Slowly her lips curved into a familiar reassuring smile. It reached all the way to her incredible eyes, but Frank wasn’t convinced. Doubts very nearly overwhelmed him. What woman would ever want hands like this touching her? He tried to imagine the tight red skin against the perfect pale silk of Jenny’s breasts, the curve of her hip, but his imagination failed him.