The Millionaire Falls Hard

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The Millionaire Falls Hard Page 9

by Fredricks, Sarah


  As Jake watched the doctor carry out a thorough examination, he gave free reign to his own tangled thoughts. He found himself physically shaking as he went over the events and what might have happened if the police hadn't shown themselves so promptly.

  'Would the perpetrator have hung around and done something far worse to her?'

  He felt an overpowering need to protect Carrie. It must be man's primitive instincts kicking in, he thought. Why else would he feel so strongly about a woman he didn't know very well. Granted, he'd read her wrong, but there were still those remarks made by Gemmell. He couldn't get them out of his head, and yet a part of him wanted to. He didn't want her to be the person Gemmell had painted. This was the first time he'd seen a woman as anything other than a bed partner. But then this was a pretty unique situation that he had got himself caught up in. He inwardly sighed, now wasn't the time to make sense of his thoughts.

  He looked up as he heard Carrie scream in pain. She had removed her jacket and blouse to allow the doctor to check her shoulder.

  Jake gasped in shock when he saw the damage. Already, the top of her arm and the shoulder, front and back were black and blue. No wonder she had screamed when he'd touched her. Instinctively he went over and held her other hand as the doctor continued to feel the injury and move her shoulder around.

  Jake's gaze fell to Carrie's breasts and he noted the nipples straining against the lacy fabric of her bra with each breath that she took. He felt the usual stirring in his loin. He longed to take them and mould them in his hands. They were as beautiful as he'd imagined them to be in his dreams. Carrie noticed where Jake's gaze had fallen and shyness slammed into her.

  She tried to take her hand away and cover herself but Jake held firm, he didn't want to break the contact with her.

  'Sorry,' he mouthed, 'wrong time.'

  His gaze suggested at a time that would come soon.

  A knock at the door broke the moment. As Alan entered the room, Jake reached for Carrie's jacket and draped it over her shoulder to provide some privacy. As he intended having a relationship with her, it seemed fine for him to see her nearly naked but he wasn't going to afford that privilege to someone else. Carrie was grateful for his consideration.

  As Jake went to leave the room with Alan, Carrie stopped them. 'I want to hear whatever you have to say.'

  'Are you sure?' asked Alan

  'Yes.'

  Alan looked across at Jake, who nodded. It was funny how Jake seemed to have become the prime carer of her in less than twenty four hours. Alan didn't mind, it gave him an opportunity to just be a policeman and be a bit more objective.

  'Well, we caught him. There were too many people on the street to allow him to get away. I'm afraid we're not much further forward though. He's just a youth. He says he was approached by a man just minutes before and told to ram you as hard as he could. We've got the money he was given. If we can lift any clear prints from it we'll run them through the database and see if we get a match. Unfortunately, he says the man had a wide brimmed hat on and dark glasses so he's only been able to give us a partial description.'

  Carrie shuddered at the thought that whoever it was who was tormenting her had been so close. As if sensing what she was thinking, Jake came back and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  Whilst Alan continued to talk, the doctor strapped up her shoulder and gave her some pain killers. As Carrie tried to replace her blouse, she realised that there was no way her clothes would fit over the bandages.

  Jake was doing a good job today at reading the situation - he went across to his suitcase and removed one of his own, clean shirts.

  'Here, try this.' Jake helped her get it on and did up the buttons. It was hardly flattering but it gave her some dignity. He then draped his own jacket across her shoulders.

  Knowing that whoever was intent on hurting her might still be outside, Carrie was nervous about leaving the building and getting into the car that was waiting outside to take them to the airport. The police and project staff formed two lines across the pavement, whilst Jake stayed close and helped her in. She winced with pain. She felt tears coming again as she realised there was no way she would be able to hide the attack from Charlie. She took a few deep breaths to fight them back. As the car moved away, Carrie rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.

  She marvelled at how safe she felt with Jake. He'd been wonderful with her since last night, so caring and gentle. If she wasn't careful she could get used to having him around and she wasn't sure she was ready for that. She glanced across at him and met his gaze. She coloured slightly as she realised he'd been watching her.

  'How are you feeling?'

  She gave a small shrug.

  'Sore. Exhausted.'

  'It's certainly been an eventful trip. Is life always this exciting with you around?' Jake tried to lighten the atmosphere.

  Carrie gave him a tired smile, grateful for what he was attempting to do. Jake gently gathered her to his side, mindful of her sore shoulder, and she closed her eyes to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Carrie was beginning to feel restless with her inactivity. Since she'd returned from London just under a week ago, she'd been cosseted by Moira, fed regular, nourishing meals and banned from doing any work. For the first few days, the strong pain killers she was on had forced her to spend a lot of the time sleeping, but the pain was subsiding and boredom had set in. Her doctor had visited to check her shoulder and now a physiotherapist was working with her to get it moving again. She'd been very lucky apparently not to have broken anything.

  Alan had been in to see her - the police weren't any further forward in knowing who it was. He'd spoken with Jake about security in her home and they'd agreed she needed electric gates and a camera entry system along with perimeter fence security. Carrie was angry when she'd heard this. How dare they discuss her behind her back.

  Alan had reasoned with her and eventually she had reluctantly accepted it was an urgent necessity.

  Jake had arranged for a firm he trusted to do the work and they'd finished yesterday. She hated that her harasser had forced her into living in a prison. She knew she was being melodramatic but that's how it felt to her.

  She was now allowed to sit in the garden room and receive daily updates from Lynne on work. She supposed this was progress. She looked around the room at all the flowers she'd received - from her mother, her friends, her agent and from people she didn't even know - all of which had had to be checked before they'd been allowed into the house.

  A floral display from Jake had been placed beside her bed. He hadn't been in to see her, but he'd phoned to check on her before he'd left on an emergency trip to the States.

  She thought again about Jake as she revelled in the warmth of the sun shining in through the glass. Her thoughts were still so confused where he was concerned. She couldn't deny he'd been good to her, but she still remembered the times before when he'd been rude. She wondered if he was being nice because she was a victim. Would he go back to being cold and rude? She didn't want him feeling sorry for her. She didn't do pity.

  She felt her face flush as she fantasised about his hands exploring her body, touching her breasts, teasing her nipples. She wanted to feel him all over her. She got hot at where her thoughts were leading. She didn't know how she would ever face him again when she couldn't control her thoughts about him.

  *

  The doctor had finally signed her off and given her permission to return to light activities. Carrie was so excited that she'd sent Moira and Lynne home for the rest of the day so she could just enjoy the peace of her own company. Charlie was having a sleepover at Lynne's house. It seemed such a novelty to be able to make herself a drink and snack without being fussed over. Moira had been wonderful and she couldn't have managed without her, but she just wanted to feel what it was like again to please herself.

  She spent the afternoon and first part of the evening catching up with work and phone calls. She would
have to go to the States soon to finalise the film contract. She decided she would tie that in with a visit to Miami to see her mother and to dispose of the property she'd lived in with her ex. She'd been surprised to discover the house hadn't been sold but then with him in prison there was no-one else to do it. With her trip to look forward to she settled down in her living room with a glass of wine and her favourite film.

  Just as the film was finishing, the phone rang. Given the lateness of the hour, it made her jump. She nervously went to answer it.

  Carrie gasped as she heard an unfamiliar voice on the end of the line. Fear gripped her as he told her he would get her tonight. How did he know she was on her own?

  For a brief moment she heard a vague familiarity in the voice but it was badly slurred. She was rooted to the spot, clutching the handset. It was a moment before she realised the voice had gone. Automatically she replaced the handset, physically shaking as all the trauma from the attack came back. Her teeth started chattering with fear. She jumped when the phone rang again.

  She screamed.

  It stopped.

  Another phone started to ring and didn't stop.

  It finally registered with her that it was her mobile. She forced herself to go through and answer it - only friends had that number.

  'Carrie?'

  No answer.

  All Jake could hear was ragged breathing.

  'Carrie, is that you? It's Jake. Carrie, speak to me!'

  The hairs stood up on the back of his neck, something was wrong.

  'What's happened?' Silence. A sob broke from her.

  'Is anyone with you?'

  Carrie's 'no' came out in another sob.

  Jake didn't like this. Last he'd heard Carrie was doing well and getting stronger by the day.

  He barked orders out down the phone. 'Don't answer the door 'til I get there. I'm fifteen minutes away. I'll phone Alan.'

  He put a call through to Alan and told his chauffeur to put his foot down.

  He'd landed less than an hour ago, having had a difficult few days in the States. It was now clear he had the wrong people running the operation over there and he was going to have to go back for a longer period to put in a new structure. Phil was working on all sorts of scenarios at the moment ranging from replacing the management team to selling the business. He hated it when a business didn't work properly. He had strong models in place that every office around the world successfully implemented but the team in the States had decided they knew better and it had all gone horribly wrong.

  Thankfully, as a result of Phil's stringent controls it had been picked up before too much damage had been done. It had still taken him away at a time when he'd have preferred to have been at home.

  He was tired, but thoughts of seeing Carrie had somehow made the last couple of days seem shorter.

  He'd discretely kept in touch with her progress through Phil, whose discretion he knew he could count on. He'd told Phil what had happened in London, but not shared anything with him about his confusing thoughts, or the fact that he'd kissed her and could remember every touch of her lips.

  Until he knew whether Carrie had said anything about the part he'd played in London, he didn't want to embarrass her by phoning the house all the time. He had decided while he was away that he would take things very slowly with her. He sensed it would take a lot for her to open up to him and trust him enough to let an intimate relationship develop between them. He still couldn't work out why earning her trust mattered so much to him.

  As they got nearer to the Estate, his thoughts turned to the news Alan had given him while Carrie had slept on the flight back from London. The harasser had phoned the number at the project office with a message for Carrie - 'tell her that's just the start'. They'd decided between them not to share that news but to get the security at her house increased. It was clear he was beginning to come out of hiding.

  *

  Carrie stared at her mobile as Jake hung up. She was rooted to the spot in the hall. She stayed there as if moving would somehow trigger the end. She had no sense of time passing.

  The buzzer at the gate sounded. Carrie let out an involuntary scream. She managed to drag herself to the camera. She didn't recognise who was there and stood shaking. The buzzer sounded again. She started crying and fell down to the floor.

  Just then the sound of machine gun fire peppered the air, and then came the sound of shattered glass.

  The gun fire continued.

  Carrie screamed and screamed until all she could hear was her own voice. She couldn't stop.

  She heard her name being shouted out in the distance. The voice sounded familiar.

  Jake!

  She forced herself up from the floor and saw him through the camera, standing there at the gate. She fumbled for the button to release the gate and unlocked the door with shaking fingers.

  Moments later she fell, sobbing, into his arms.

  Jake gathered her close. 'It's over, Carrie. They've got him. It's over.' He kissed her hair. 'Sweetheart, it's finished. It's going to be OK.' He gathered her into his arms and carried her out to his car. The police could take care of everything at the house.

  As Jake had arrived, so too had Alan and half a dozen police cars. They'd surrounded the harasser in a circle of light from their headlights just as he'd fired his shots. The policeman who had been first to arrive and buzzed the gate had dashed round to the side when he'd heard the noise.

  The man had dropped his gun, screaming 'don't shoot! Don't shoot! I only meant to scare her.' Jake had heard it all as he'd waited, impatiently, praying Carrie was OK enough to open the gate.

  Another voice had called out 'got him'.

  When Jake had heard the shattering of the glass, he'd silently cursed that Carrie had built her house so close to the boundary wall. It had been too easy to get to her. He'd stopped breathing between that sound and Carrie opening the gate. He'd thought for a dreadful moment that she'd been shot before he'd had a chance to tell her how he felt.

  It had taken this to bring him to his senses. This was the one woman he wanted to spend his life with, but what dreadful timing to realise it. There was no way she'd be ready to hear that. It would take an iron will in the coming weeks to take things slowly.

  Jake stopped his car just long enough to let Alan know where he was taking her and headed on up to his apartment.

  He carried Carrie inside and lay her down on the bed in the room next to his. She hadn't spoken and was still crying, but they were silent tears that streamed down her cheeks. She clung to him when he tried to leave her.

  'You're safe Carrie,' he said gently, 'you're in my home. I'm going to make you a drink and then I'm going to 'phone for the doctor. I'll be right back.'

  He lent over and brushed her forehead with his lips. She released her grip.

  *

  Carrie slept fitfully over the next few days. The doctor had given her medication to help calm her, and it had helped for the first few hours following the attack, but then she woke every few hours, screaming and soaking wet from sweat. From the first scream Jake had never gone far from her side, his housekeeper relieving him for the short times he did. When he wasn't comforting her, he just sat watching her, worrying about her, reliving Friday evening and what he'd witnessed down at the house afterwards.

  Moira had arrived the night of the attack with some nightwear for Carrie and had helped her into bed. She'd then stayed with her for a while so that Jake could go down and see what was happening at the house. There had been shards of glass everywhere, across every surface of the living room. Some of the sofas were damaged and bits of glass, and bullets, had lodged themselves in the opposite wall. Wooden furniture was scratched. Every pane of glass along the length of the living room had been shattered. It was going to take some amount of effort to get it all cleared up, new glass fitted and the room back to how it had been. The police had set up security to ensure no-one could enter the property.

  With flashing lights and a
mass of police and forensics everywhere it was going to be impossible to keep this quiet. No matter the lateness of the hour, Jake had got his publicity people onto it to minimise the information released. He'd been completely stunned when Alan had told him the identity of the attacker.

  One thing the two men had agreed on was that Carrie shouldn't see the house until it was all restored.

  Back in his own home, Jake had relieved Moira and declined her offer to stay and help, wanting to stay by Carrie's side and be there for her himself. If Moira had wondered about his motives, she'd wisely said nothing.

  Jake had cared for Carrie, keeping her fresh each time the nightmares overwhelmed her. Her body had shut down. She seemed completely unaware of being given fluids, of being helped to the bathroom or of sitting in a chair whilst the bed linen was changed. She just appeared to be a shell, staring ahead when she was awake, only making her presence felt when the screams started. Jake wondered if they would ever stop. The doctor had told him it would just take time and to keep doing what he was doing. Sooner or later the message would get through to Carrie that she was safe.

  Jake had handed over control of the business to Phil and was past worrying about what his friend would make of him caring for Carrie.

  There was one moment of reflection when he thought Phil would have a field day knowing Jake had fallen for a woman with a child. Mostly, he tortured himself with what might have happened if Carrie had been in that room during the gunfire.

  Carrie stirred again, muttering in her sleep.

  He looked at his watch, she seemed to have slept for longer than previously. Jake hoped that was a good sign. It was now Monday afternoon and he wanted her consciously aware so he could arrange the next stage of her recovery.

  Knowing the pattern by now he sat on the bed, ready to comfort her when the screaming started. He pulled her into his arms and held her until her body went limp. He spoke the same words to her as he did every time this happened, telling her she was safe, she was with him and no-one would hurt her again. He brushed his lips against her forehead. He was amazed at how deeply he felt for this woman. It was killing him holding her body close and not being able to act on his desire. He had it bad when his body responded to hers while she was limp and unresponsive in his arms.

 

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