by Kim Lawrence
Sam made a terrific effort to retain control, but as he sank into her and felt her hotly close around him he became oblivious to anything but the desperate, blind need that drove him.
‘Did I hurt you?’
Lindy looked up, startled, and belted the thick unisex robe around her waist. ‘I didn’t know you were awake.’
‘Did I?’
She blushed, the memory of his lovemaking just as vivid as the imprints left on her body this morning.
‘You were very energetic for a man on the edge of exhaustion.’ She tried to hit just the right note, not too light, not too intense. She couldn’t tell him the experience had shaken her profoundly. She couldn’t tell him she’d discovered an aspect to her character she hadn’t even suspected existed.
‘Should I apologise?’
She couldn’t be that cool! ‘That would spoil it.’
He relaxed slightly, and she realised for the first time that he’d been awaiting her reply tensely. He sat up and the covers slipped down to his waist, revealing his torso. Dry-throated, she averted her eyes. She could exactly recall the satiny texture of his skin beneath the light dusting of dark hair.
‘I have to go to the hospital.’
That was it. It was over. She had steeled herself for this moment.
‘Will you come with me?’
The words robbed her of composure. ‘Me?’
‘The medics might be more forthcoming with you. It’s incredibly frustrating when they’re obviously holding back. I don’t want to be humoured, I want the whole truth. But if you’re busy…?’
‘No!’ She took a deep breath and excised the fervour from her voice. ‘I’ve nothing on today.’ Her shrug was casualness personified. So, he didn’t need her to share his burden—but he did need her, and that was better than nothing.
‘Thanks.’ Totally lacking self-consciousness, he lifted the covers and stood up.
The pattern on the carpet really was very interesting, almost hypnotic, Lindy mused.
‘Have you showered?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Pity.’
Coward that she was, she didn’t look up. It was truly pathetic, she reflected, how powerfully the husky suggestiveness in his voice could arouse her. She continued to lay out her clothes.
‘Where’s your luggage?’
She mentally backtracked, trying to recall exactly what she had said to him. God, my memory’s not good enough for this lying lark, she thought anxiously.
‘It was lost…at the airport.’ She was so pleased with this lie she felt inspired to embroider it slightly. ‘It went to Hawaii.’ She looked up and her self-confident smile faltered. ‘Will you put some clothes on?’ she snapped. How was a person supposed to lie convincingly when faced with that sort of distraction?
‘I got the impression you liked my body last night.’
‘That’s below the belt.’
A smile quivered on his lips. ‘Wasn’t that your specialist subject?’
‘Sam!’
‘All right, all right, is this better?’ He folded a bath towel around his middle. ‘Did you wear this for your meeting with the medical administrator?’ He picked up the navy cotton striped top that matched the navy canvas trousers she’d travelled in yesterday.
‘It was a casual meeting.’
‘It must have been. Anyway, I’m in a similar situation to you; I’ve nothing to wear.’ He regarded the clothes that hadn’t been off his back for almost a week with disfavour. ‘I’ll ring down to Reception and get some things sent up.’
‘The boutiques in the foyer won’t be open yet.’
‘Then they can open early,’ Sam replied. ‘I think you’ll find they’ll be flexible.’
This statement proved accurate. A selection of items appeared whilst Sam was still in the shower.
‘Anything to suit?’ he asked as he walked in towelling his dark hair vigorously.
‘Plenty,’ she observed drily. She frowned at yet another designer label. ‘How did you know my size?’ Even the lingerie, which made her mouth water, was an exact fit.
Sam cupped one hand. ‘Thirty-four C,’ he said, squinting at his approximation.
‘That ability must come in very useful!’ she commented with a flush.
‘It does,’ he confirmed. ‘Keep anything you like and I’ll send the rejects back.’
‘I can’t afford these,’ she observed regretfully.
‘Who’s asking you to pay?’
‘I can’t accept clothes from you.’
‘Why not?’
‘It wouldn’t be…it wouldn’t be appropriate.’
‘You can owe me.’ His voice suggested the subject was beginning to bore him.
Of course, he’s got more important things to think about than what knickers I wear, she thought guiltily. She selected a pair of tailored cream linen trousers and a striped silk shirt.
‘I’ll pay you back.’
He looked impatient, but didn’t argue the point. He was impatient, but she managed to persuade him to eat breakfast before they left for the hospital.
Marilyn didn’t appear surprised at her presence. She nodded in recognition as Lindy walked in beside Sam. As she listened to the attending doctor’s assessment, Lindy’s heart sank. The impressive list of injuries were not in themselves life-threatening. The scans showed there had been no permanent brain damage, but…
‘What are you trying to say?’ Sam brusquely halted the meandering commentary littered with technical jargon.
‘He’s saying the kidney damage is permanent, Sam.’
The doctor shot her a surprised glance. ‘You’re a doctor?’
Lindy nodded. Sam hadn’t flinched, but his jaw tightened and he looked to the medic for confirmation.
‘Is Lindy right?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
Marilyn let out an anguished moan and flung herself into her husband’s arms. ‘My poor baby,’ she sobbed.
‘What exactly does this mean?’ Sam persisted.
‘The boy will need to be on dialysis for the rest of his life.’
‘What about a transplant?’
‘That is, of course, an option, but a suitable donor doesn’t always come up overnight. We have tissue-typed Benjamin, of course…a close relative would be best… A sibling?’
‘I’m pregnant.’ Marilyn wiped the tears from her face. ‘Does that rule me out?’
‘Honey…’ Her husband drew her closer to his side.
Sam looked with surprise from one to the other. ‘Congratulations. That leaves me.’
Lindy flinched, even though she’d known he was going to say it. This was the man she accused of being an unnatural father!
‘There’s no guarantee you’ll be compatible, Mr Rourke.’
‘Do what you have to do.’
‘We can arrange counselling if the tests prove…’
‘I don’t want counselling. I want you to get on with your job.’
‘We wouldn’t contemplate surgery until the boy’s recovered from his other injuries.’ That said, the doctor retreated tactfully.
‘Oh, Sam, how can you ever forgive us?’
‘There’s nothing to forgive, Marilyn.’
Lindy would have retreated herself if Sam hadn’t been blocking the doorway. She felt like an interloper. This was a private moment and she had no place here.
‘We had no right to ask you not to see Ben. We should have told him you were his father. I played on your guilt deliberately.’ The admission made Marilyn’s eyes fill with tears. ‘It wasn’t fair to you or Ben. It was selfish. When I saw you sitting at his bedside, I knew I’d been wicked.’
‘You were only doing what you thought best, love,’ her husband said comfortingly.
‘Not best for Ben,’ his wife wailed. ‘You have every right to feel bitter. You were always a good father.’
‘An absent father,’ Sam reminded her.
‘That wasn’t your choice. You went where the money was
. You gave up your college education for us, Ben and I. You made sure I finished my education, and how do I repay you?’ The tears started again.
‘There’s no point in rehashing the past, Marilyn. The only thing that matters now is Ben.’
The doctor reappeared in the doorway. ‘Mrs Tenant, your son is awake. He’s asking for you.’
‘My face—do I look all right? I don’t want him to know I’ve been crying.’
‘You look fine, honey.’ Murray turned back as they followed the white-uniformed figure. ‘Come with us, Sam.’ Awkwardly, he tried to bridge the gap.
Sam shook his head. ‘Not now.’
Lindy was choked with emotion. When she thought of the things she’d accused him of, when all along… She’d known for some time that she’d been wrong, but the extent of his sacrifices made her feel wretched. Wretched but proud.
‘Why don’t you go with them?’
‘The boy doesn’t want to see a stranger. He wants his mom and dad.’
How that matter-of-fact statement must have hurt. Lindy curled her fingers into fists to stop herself from reaching out to comfort him. That wordless gesture would have implied an intimacy which, despite the wild passions of the night, didn’t exist between them. Lindy had no illusions about what last night had meant to him. For her, it belonged in the small collection of special memories she’d keep fresh for ever in the years ahead. Memories of Sam that no one could take from her.
‘Tell me about transplants, Rosalind.’
‘First of all they’ll see if you’re compatible. The better the match, the more likely the transplant will be successful. They’ll want to find out if you’ve got two healthy kidneys before they do anything. All surgery carries a risk, Sam.’ Sounding objective was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. She felt sick with apprehension at the risk he was taking, but she knew her instincts were purely selfish.
‘There’s a chance of rejection?’
‘Yes, but I’m no expert. I don’t know the up-to-date statistics. As I said, the better the match, the more the likelihood of success. You have to remember that you’ll only have one kidney, though.’
‘You only need one, right?’
‘If you’re involved in an accident that injures the remaining kidney, you’re going to find yourself in a similar situation to Ben.’
He made a dismissive gesture. ‘It’s possible I can do something. Do you know what a relief that is? Have you any idea how frustrating it’s been the last few days sitting there, helpless to do anything, watching him slipping further away?’
His clenched fists ground into the muscles of his thigh. ‘He looked so young. I kept thinking, Why? Why Ben? What had he done to deserve that? Why wasn’t it me lying there? If that bastard who did it had been in the same room, I’d have killed him.’ His eyes, filled with dark torment, touched her face. ‘Seriously, Rosalind, I wanted to smash something. I’ve never considered myself to be a violent man…’
The depth of his emotion hit her like a tidal wave. ‘I’m only playing devil’s advocate, Sam.’ His pain squeezed her heart like a vice, but what could she say? He didn’t need platitudes. ‘The medical staff here are honour-bound to point out all the pitfalls. They’ll tell you the same thing I have, but in more detail.’
‘I understand.’ He took a shuddering breath. ‘Thanks, Rosalind; thanks for everything.’
My exit line, she thought. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ she said brightly.
‘To what?’
Don’t be awkward, Sam, she silently prayed. This is hard enough as it is.
‘Dr Lacey—Rosalind—I hoped I’d find you here.’
‘Sam, this is Dr Bohman.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Rourke.’ Fred Bohman pumped Sam’s hand. ‘Sorry to hear about your son. I wondered, Rosalind, if you’d pass this on to your brother-in-law when you see him. It’s a copy of the snap I took when we were in Geneva last year. I promised him a copy.’
‘Of course; no problem.’ She smiled as he rushed on his way.
Sam looked over her shoulder at the photo, which showed a row of men each with a glass in his hand. Adam was in the centre of the shot, carrying a silver statuette.
If she knew Adam the prestigious award for medical research was probably stowed in a dark cupboard somewhere, which was where this photo was likely to be stowed too, she thought with a wry smile.
‘That’s your brother-in-law?’ Sam placed a shapely, blunt-ended finger on the spot where Adam smiled back at the camera.
Lindy snatched the photo away. She hadn’t even been aware that he was looking over her shoulder. ‘Yes, that’s Adam,’ she confirmed.
‘Good-looking guy.’
Perhaps he hadn’t noticed. ‘Anna thinks so,’ she responded carefully.
‘Then he’s not your boyfriend?’
It had been too much to hope for. ‘Obviously not.’ If he tries to suggest that I’ll sock him, so help me…she thought.
He didn’t try to take a rise after all. ‘That figures.’
‘It does?’ she responded, seriously worried by the expression on his face.
‘You didn’t come here to see Bohman, did you, Rosalind?’
‘Not directly, but he was very helpful.’ She managed a good example of her very best cool, professional smile.
‘Why did you come here?’
Even though the air-conditioning was a little on the cool side she was sweating.
‘You just happened to be passing?’
She gasped. That was plain cruel. He knew; she could see it in his eyes. But he wasn’t going to be satisfied until she admitted it.
‘I saw the headlines about Ben and I thought…’
‘You thought?’ he prompted.
‘I thought you might need my help.’ It sounded feeble, and she knew it.
‘So you hopped on the first plane,’ he deduced. ‘Wasn’t that taking good neighbourliness to extremes?’
He was taunting her and she didn’t deserve that! So he was still mad with her for not trusting him, but this wasn’t fair. She placed her hands on her hips and eyed him belligerently.
‘I came because I had to. Because I love you!’ she declared. ‘Satisfied?’ Tears trembled on her eyelashes.
CHAPTER NINE
‘NOT nearly satisfied,’ said Sam.
‘What do you want—blood?’ Lindy burst out.
‘Only a little bit, but if this is a bad time I can come back.’ The impatient incomprehension on Sam’s face made the young medic wish himself elsewhere.
They’d been so immersed that neither of them had noticed the white-coated figure enter the room.
‘No, no, that’ll be fine.’ Sam played the perfect patient flawlessly as he swiftly soothed the apprehensive doctor. He rolled up his sleeve.
Lindy bit her lip; the urge to giggle obviously stemmed from hysteria. Under the circumstances humour was wildly inappropriate.
‘Do you happen to know what blood group you are?’
‘AB negative. Is that good?’
‘It’s rare.’ The white coated young man admitted. ‘And it’s the same as Ben’s, which is a start. You won’t feel a thing.’ The platitude brought an ironic smile to Sam’s lips. ‘There. All finished.’
‘He looked about sixteen,’ Sam commented as he rolled down his shirt-sleeve once the medic had departed. ‘Hell, that’s one of those things I always swore I’d never say when I was a kid.’
‘Our own expectations are usually the hardest to live up to.’
‘So you love me, then?’
Lindy cast him a wary look. He sounded as though he was discussing the weather. ‘This is no joke.’ It was callous of him to derive pleasure from her misery. Was that pleasure she read on his face? It was hard to interpret the flare of emotion in his eyes.
‘It’d better not be.’
This ambiguous statement didn’t give her any further insight into his reaction to her declaration. At least he hadn’t laughed or looked t
riumphant. Perhaps the way she’d treated him no longer seemed particularly important, considering what he’d been through the last few days. Slipping down his list of priorities gave her little comfort. At least when he hated me he was thinking about me, she mused. The sheer perversity of this thought made her frown.
‘You needn’t worry that I’m going to read too much into last night,’ she reassured him. ‘I know the circumstances were exceptional.’ She knew his passionate intensity had been a form of release from the unbearable tension he’d been under. Perhaps friendship could be salvaged from this mess?
‘You feel you were some sort of passive receptacle providentially sent to liberate my pent-up emotions?’ The flicker this time was quite definitely anger. ‘Strange,’ he said softly. ‘You didn’t give the impression of passivity.’ She squirmed under his relentless scrutiny. ‘The last time I had unprotected sex a baby was conceived.’
‘Me too,’ she responded faintly. It was a bolt out of the blue. Why didn’t I think of that? she asked herself incredulously. Her knees showed an alarming tendency to buckle and she slid into a chair.
‘I thought it might be something like that,’ he mused openly.
Lindy stared at him with horror. It had just slipped out in the shock of facing a complication that she honestly hadn’t even considered. Why had she needed him to alert her to the possible consequences of last night? It should have been the first thing she’d thought about. What had been the first thing that had occurred to her this morning? She gave a tiny groan—she’d been too busy keeping her hands off Sam’s sleeping form to be able to think anything, barring how glorious he looked and how good it was to wake up cradled in his arms.
‘You couldn’t possibly know.’ She dragged a trembling hand through her soft hair.
‘As you didn’t see fit to confide in me, no. I only had vague suspicions.’
‘The way you confided in me about Ben?’
‘I would have if you’d given me the chance,’ he reminded her grimly. ‘You didn’t trust me,’ he added tautly.
‘There were reasons why I—’ She broke off and buried her face in her hands. ‘It’s too late now. I know you’ll never forgive me.’