by Craig, Susan
“Your hands must hurt like hell,” she said.
Brows drawn together in pain, he nodded jerkily.
“I can help. Just a second.” She slipped off the bed, turning her back to both him and the door. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves, leaving her coat hanging over her shoulders as she divested herself of the black lingerie. Holding the coat shut with one hand, she walked to a trash can, stepped on the pedal that opened it and dropped the offensive items inside. She let the lid fall with a thud and shuddered hard. “Yech.”
Turning to Jim, she slid back into the hospital bed facing him, pulling her coat under the blankets with her. Then she reached for his frozen hands and drew them to her, gasping as they touched her warm flesh.
Immediately he began to pull back, but she would have none of that and held him firmly against her. It felt like he was touching live fire, yet he welcomed the pain, recognizing it as a gift of love.
“When you’ve soaked up the heat there, move to a new spot,” she ordered. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around his shuddering body, putting as much of her skin in contact with his as possible, transferring her body heat to him. She slid her bare legs along his cold, stiff jeans, then pulled back her head to look at him curiously. “How did you manage to land that kick, trussed up as you were?”
When he began to try to answer, she placed her fingers over his cold lips.
“Sorry. Tell me later. Let me get you warm now.”
While Jim shuddered in silence, Sally shifted gently from one position to the next, trying to keep him in contact with areas of her body that still had warmth to give. She had turned to snug her back up against his chest—and give her own chest a chance to warm up again—when Officer Demarco walked into the room. He gave them one startled stare, and then grinned.
“Sorry. Maybe I should have knocked.”
chapter twenty-one
Shivering from her attempts to warm the man beside her in the bed, Sally glared at the grinning police officer. “It wouldn’t have made any difference if you’d knocked. Jim’s still half-frozen and I’m trying to warm him up.” She reached to yank the covers higher over her shoulders. “Make sure he’s covered on the other side, would you?”
Demarco crossed to the opposite side of the hospital bed and adjusted the covers. “Can you talk, Jim?”
She felt Jim nod his head. “Y-yes. B-better than before.”
The door swung open again, and the nurse—Anna—stepped in with her arms full, then stopped and stared. She looked more surprised to see Demarco in the room than to see Sally snuggled up to Jim. Neither circumstance slowed her down much.
She set the material in her arms on the bed and addressed herself to Jim, as she once again stuck a thermometer in his mouth. “Your friend, Dr. Smith, is responding well to rewarming, but hasn’t regained consciousness. It seems he may have been drugged. You’re looking much better. I’ve brought a warming blanket for you.”
“No, stay where you are.” The nurse spoke to Sally as she tried to wiggle back into her coat beneath the covers, preparing to slip out of the bed. “It was a good thought to warm him up, but you could probably use some rewarming yourself by now. Relax. Someone will be in to see to your feet soon.” She moved to Sally’s side of the bed to plug in the blanket.
Behind Sally, Jim cleared his throat. Anna pulled the thermometer from his mouth, and he spoke in a gravelly voice. “His hands?”
The nurse looked away for a moment before answering. “We’ll have to wait and see. Don’t mess with the controls on this. It’s set where it belongs. I’ll be back to check on you in a while. Once your core temperature is back to normal you can go home.” She brushed past Demarco and left.
Jim shifted into a more comfortable position behind Sally and slid one still-cold hand up to warm it against her throat. She covered his arm with her own.
“What can we do for you, Officer Demarco?” he said. “Can you tell us anything?”
Demarco sat and leaned his clipboard on a knee. “Mark Hunter is dead. It looks like he brought Smith from the bar to the apartment in Smith’s Humvee. What the nurse said about Smith being drugged explains how Hunter managed that. We can get your full statements later, but I need you to tell me about the kick that sent him over, and how you came to be on the balcony.”
She felt Jim’s shoulders move in a shrug. “I was sure that if he regained control of the gun, he’d shoot Sally. So when he came within reach, I went after him with everything I had, such as it was. I’m amazed I actually reached him with that kick. I thought at best I’d distract him, but I had to try.”
“I sure as hell was surprised,” said Demarco. “I’ll bet every muscle in your gut will be screaming tomorrow. So how did you wind up on the balcony?”
She heard Jim swallow. “Stupidity on my part. I underestimated Hunter. Went in after Smith, entered the building, and broke into the apartment. I didn’t see any sign of the bastard, thought he’d gone down after Sally. But he was in the apartment waiting for me, with his gun. I didn’t have a weapon, but I wasn’t worried. I knew I could get the drop on him once he moved in closer.” Jim shook his head. “He turned out to be smarter than I thought—too smart to let me get anywhere near him. He kept his distance until I had duct-taped my own arm to the railing. Then he stayed as far out of reach as possible while securing my other wrist. Even then he kept the gun trained on me while he stole my cell phone to call Sally.”
“Uh-huh,” said Demarco, making notes on the clipboard. “Well, I’ll spare you the obligatory lecture on letting the police handle these things.” He looked at the two of them again, his gaze shifting to Sally, then away. “We found your clothes in the bathroom, Mrs. Johnston, and a knife. I need to know if it was yours or Hunter’s.”
Sally managed to smile. It took an effort. Demarco and the men with him had seen a lot more of her than she liked. The fact that he seemed uncomfortable helped, somehow. “The knife is Dr. Donovan’s. I borrowed it from his truck.” She paused, grappling for an unemotional tone of voice. “Hunter…” she hated even saying the name. “He didn’t know it was there.”
Demarco nodded. “About your clothes…”
Damn it, they’re probably still at Daniel’s apartment. She sighed, then spoke. “It’s okay. I have my coat.”
From behind her came the rumble of Jim’s voice. “I’m sure we can get Anne to bring you some scrubs to wear home.”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled gratefully. “That would be wonderful.”
“But Grandma said you got an A on your paper.” Tyler climbed into the van, continuing a discussion that had begun as soon as they walked out the door of his grandparents’ home.
“No, honey, she said I deserved an A on my paper. It’s not quite the same thing. I won’t know my grade for another few days. But I did a good job, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.” Tyler sounded less than convinced. He looked out the window a moment, then spoke again. “Mom, why didn’t Dr. Donovan come with you to pick me up?”
Sally answered her son without taking her eyes off the road. “Dr. Smith is coming home from the hospital today, honey. So, Dr. Donovan has to drive him.”
“But Dr. Donovan saved your life didn’t he? And the burglar is gone now?”
Sally had skirted some of the details—quite a few of the details—surrounding the elimination of the stalker. “Yes, he saved my life, and the burglar is gone.”
Tyler nodded his head complacently while he watched for animals—deer, raccoons, hawks, skunk. “I knew he would take care of you. He promised me he would, and now we can keep on being friends with him.”
Sally turned to look at her son. “About that. How would you feel if Dr. Donovan was more than a friend?”
That caught his attention. He faced her, with a frown wrinkling his brow. “What’s more than a friend?”
“Well, what if Dr. Donovan and I got married?”
Tyler thought a minute. People who go
t married were supposed to be in love. He loved Dr. Donovan, but he wasn’t sure about Mom.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes, honey, I do.”
“Then that will be okay.” Tyler turned back to the scenery.
End of story. Sally smiled to herself as the minivan bounced over the country roads through the Sunday morning quiet, toward York. Checking out Tyler’s feelings about marriage had been easy. Jim should be so simple. She’d moved into his loft while Tyler was at his grandparents, making it convenient for them to visit Daniel daily in the hospital. Finally sure of her feelings and free of the threat of the stalker, she threw herself into loving Jim with the abandon typical of her approach to life in general. But now Tyler was coming home, and though she was sure Jim loved her, they hadn’t discussed marriage… and he had turned her down once.
I’m taking Tyler home tonight. Will Jim come along? How will I explain that to Tyler? There was only one solution. Today she would find out what Jim’s plans were.
When Sally pulled the minivan into a parking space near the loft, she saw Jim’s red truck parked in its usual spot.
“Dr. Donovan is home, Mom. Does that mean Dr. Smith is home too?”
“I hope so, honey.” Sally pushed the button to call Jim’s elevator. “Let’s go find out.”
They entered the loft and found Daniel resting in state on Jim’s black leather sectional, dressed in hospital slippers, sweatpants and a white cotton T-shirt. His gauze-wrapped hands rested on a pillow in his lap.
“Daniel. It’s good to see you out of the hospital,” Sally said.
He smiled at her and winked at Tyler. “Believe me, it’s good to be out.”
“Dr. Smith,” Tyler asked, “is it okay if I ask you a question?”
“Sure, Tyler. What?”
“Well, why are you all red, and why do you have that on your hands? Mom said they had to keep you in the hospital until your hands were better.”
“They kept me until they knew my hands would be all right, but I have bandages on because they’re still red and sore. Even redder than the rest of me.”
“The rest of you is pretty red.”
Daniel tilted his head to the side, his attention still on Tyler. “Did you ever get a sunburn and peel?”
The boy nodded.
“This is like that. My skin is peeling and that makes it red. It’ll go away after a while.”
“How long will they keep your hands bandaged?” Sally asked.
“That will depend on how fast he heals,” said a woman’s voice from the kitchen area.
Sally turned to see April Windham standing behind the counter next to Jim. For an instant, raw jealousy swamped her; just as quickly she stifled it.
“April has volunteered to lend me a hand with things until the bandages come off,” Daniel said.
“It’s no trouble, really,” the slim realtor affirmed. “Dan has to have daily hydrotherapy for at least another week to help shed the damaged tissue. The cold slows my business down enough that I have plenty of spare time to help a friend get back and forth.”
Sally raised her eyebrows at the proprietary tone in April’s voice. “Right. That’s nice of you, April.” Claim staked and boundaries marked. Good luck, girl—you’re gonna need it.
Jim smiled at Sally. “Dr. Smith is going to stay at the loft until the whirlpool treatments end, because it’s so close to the hospital.” Eyebrows raised slightly, he darted a quick glance toward April.
Right. Time to get Tyler out of here. “Have you all eaten? Tyler and I are starving.” Sally looked at Jim. “Pizza? Chinese?”
“Pizza,” he said. “Smith and April ate at the hospital. Come on Tyler, you can carry your mom’s suitcase, and I have a bag of my own to get.”
The large, thick crust special—minus green peppers—didn’t last long. Jim watched Tyler wolf down the last piece. The boy was growing, again, and his appetite showed it. When Tyler stood and walked to his mom, Jim leaned back to watch the show. Sally always pretended she had no quarters, and no idea why Tyler would want quarters, before finally giving in and funding his after-pizza game binge. But not today. Jim tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together. Instead of badgering, Tyler was whispering and pushing at his mom’s shoulder. Even stranger, she was whispering back.
“All right, together.” Sally said, and stood up.
The muscles in his torso tensed as she stepped toward him, then looked at Tyler, who was hanging back. “Well, are you with me or not?”
Tyler came to her side, hanging his arm around her waist. He nudged his shoulder into her side. “You ask him.”
“Okay, I will.” She looked back at Jim and took a deep breath. “Will you marry us, Dr. Donovan? We love you.”
Two pair of eyes watched him, as he slowly rose to his feet. Finally. He’d waited her out. Jim cleared his throat, his face serious. “Yes, on one condition.”
Sally pulled her head back and narrowed her eyes. “What condition?”
He reached into his pocket. “You have to agree to wear these, for the rest of your life.” Opening the box he’d carried every day for over a week, he held it out to her. Together, double bands anchored an intricate twist of diamonds flanking a large faceted amethyst.
“They’re beautiful. When…? How…?”
Jim smiled at her reaction. It wasn’t often she was at a loss for words. “I picked them out online, at the library, the day I first told you I loved you.”
“But I told you then that—”
“I know.” He grinned. “It was an expression of my determination to win you over.”
Then his Sally blushed. A delightful and rare event. He separated the engagement ring from the set, and took her hand. “For my lilac lady.”
A smile bloomed on her face as he slipped the amethyst on her finger.
Time for a kiss. As he pulled her toward him, Tyler came along, and the passionate kiss Jim intended became instead a sound buss on the mouth in the midst of a group hug. Laughing, Jim scooped Tyler up one-armed and brought his head even with theirs. “So I have your okay on marrying your mom, Tyler?”
“Yeah.” Tyler’s wide grin showcased his still-oversized permanent teeth. Then he sobered. “But I do have a question, Dr. Donovan.” He wrinkled his forehead and screwed up his face. “Could I please just call you Dad?”
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Sally and Jim’s story. If so, please write a review!
The front cover design for all three books in this trilogy was done by the wonderfully talented Ramona Lockwood. You can see more of her work at www.coversbyramona.blogspot.com
Perhaps you are curious about Diana and Logan. They have a wonderful marriage now, but when they first met it didn’t seem likely to turn out that way. Diana was exactly the kind of woman—successful and career-oriented—that Logan wanted nothing to do with. When he bought her company, she insisted on staying around to “train” him in the job of CEO.
Not likely. Drawn to Diana against his better judgment, Logan swore to get her out of his company (and into his bed). Well, that didn’t work out quite like he’d planned…
Their story is in Tossing the Caber, book one of the Toss Trilogy. Turn the page to take a peek.
Tossing the Caber
chapter one
With a crash of brass against plaster, Diana’s office door hit the wall.
Her heart kicked into high gear. In the doorway stood six foot four inches of angry, heavily muscled male.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the man demanded, and strode toward her polished mahogany desk.
Logan Carmichael. With recognition, her alarm dissolved and for a fleeting second, she wondered what had upset the engineer. Then her spine straightened, ready for an argument. Lifting her chin, she looked beyond him to the frowning, gray-haired secretary fidgeting in the doorway. “It’s all right, Mildred. I’ll speak with Dr. Carmichael.” She flicked a glance toward the man planting his broad hands on
her desktop. “And if the wall is damaged, he’ll pay for the repairs.”
With a nod, Mildred pulled the door shut.
Diana Lennox, sole owner and CEO of Lennox Incorporated, tilted her head against the back of her chair and focused a narrow gaze on the man before her. “Now, would you like to rephrase that question, Dr. Carmichael?”
He glared at her. “I just heard you’re considering selling out to Carbon Unlimited. Is it true?” She could feel the heat radiating from his large body, and when she took a measured breath, it carried a faint scent of musk. Looming above her, he waited for a response.
Muscles low in her belly tightened, but she ignored them. Despite the scowl on his face, she thought he looked more upset than angry. Too bad he’d forfeited her sympathy by trying to intimidate her.
She rose without giving way to him. It brought them face-to-face and less than a foot apart. Looking him straight in the eye, she used the tension in her muscles to lend strength to the cold authority in her voice. “Sit down, please… Now.”
For a long moment she waited, unmoving, as fire leapt in his eyes.
Her own didn’t waver.
Still glaring, he straightened, stepping back to one of the brown leather chairs. And Logan Carmichael sat.
Diana maintained her rigid posture, but with her authority successfully asserted, the rigid set of her diaphragm eased. She allowed herself a moment to study the ex-Army engineer. His rugged face and military posture gave him the look of an ancient warrior—powerful, confident, and shaped from the bones of the earth.
She felt the small beginnings of a purely female response to his imposing size and physique, but shut it down. This was business. Waiting for a change in his expression that would signal a return to civility, she saw his eyes relax.
Good. It was time to see what this angry ancient warrior wanted. Her shoulders softened. She spoke in a cool, soft voice. “All right, Dr. Carmichael, tell me what made you toss professionalism aside and come barging in here like that.”