by Candace Shaw
Unfortunately, he was right. Her lips willingly responded to his as if it were the most natural thing between them. She was amazed at how his tongue had taken total control over hers in a sensual tango. For a moment she’d forgotten she wasn’t fond of Bryce and instead had let him take possession over her mind and her mouth. A tingle between her legs twitched, and she drew her knees to her chest, hoping that would help calm down the sensation.
Sydney sucked in her breath and realized how crazy her thoughts were. Bryce was the last man she’d ever have feelings for, and so she decided it was the medication that was being dripped into her veins making her think foolishly.
“What are you doing here?”
“Megan asked me to check on you. Trust me—if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Okay, but why did that nurse think you were my husband?”
“Because only immediate family are allowed in this area of the hospital, and I know you don’t want to alarm your parents.”
Bryce was right about that. Her parents weren’t happy with her decision to become a GBI agent after graduating from law school and forgoing taking the bar exam. They worried she would get hurt on the job. While she’d never been hurt, lately she’d felt mentally and physically drained.
“You didn’t have to kiss me to prove that we’re married. You could’ve said ‘hello, dear’ or ‘wifey’ with a wink or something. I can read body language, you know.”
“I think my way was much more fun. Don’t you?” His tone was seductive and the sensation between her thighs raced once again.
She smacked her lips and rested her head back on the pillow. “I just need to go home. I had plans.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, which read four o’clock on the dot. “Hopefully, the doctor will be here soon with my CT scan results.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Hot date tonight?”
She pushed her hair back over her ears. “Yes, with me, myself and I.”
A wicked grin etched over his handsome mocha face, and he stroked his goatee. “Mmm...interesting.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. Not that kind of date. I’ve been working nonstop for two weeks and I’m exhausted. I just wanted to chill on the couch and watch old movies this weekend.”
“Exhausted and dehydrated are why you’re here. You’ve been overworking yourself.”
“Well, I guess you wouldn’t know anything about hard work.”
He shook his head, chuckling sarcastically. “Humph...I’m not even going to entertain your comment. You can think whatever you like. You always do anyway.”
“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”
Bryce reached into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone. He glanced down at the screen and typed something before sliding it back into his pocket.
“You know exactly what I mean. You’ve painted this distorted picture of me years ago from rumors about me being a spoiled rich kid that hasn’t worked for anything. Yes, my father is a millionaire, and yes, I’ve benefited from that. However, the truth is you simply don’t know me, but there’s no point in trying to convince you otherwise.”
“Huh.” She looked him up and down. “You don’t need to convince me of anything.”
“Whatever. Once the doctor gets here and lets us know how you are, I’ll contact Megan and then I’ll leave.”
Sydney pointed to the door and almost winced as the IV needle in her wrist pinched her, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t going to let him think she couldn’t handle pain. “You can leave now. I’ll call Megan myself. Besides, what makes you think I want you present when the doctor arrives? My medical condition is a private matter, Counselor.”
He chuckled sarcastically. “Because I’m your husband, babe.” He winked and sat in the chair next to the bed.
“If I wasn’t hooked up to all these freakin’ machines, I’d walk out of here right now!” She turned on her side, facing away from him, and pressed the button for the flat-screen television mounted on the wall opposite the bed.
“Trust me. I don’t want to be here, either. I’m only here for Megan’s peace of mind. She’s worried, but I just sent her a text that I’m here and you’re in very good hands.”
Sydney glanced over her shoulder at him with a cold stare, but his eyes didn’t meet with hers. Instead, he smiled like a Cheshire cat and his gaze was mesmerized on her butt as he bit his bottom lip. His eyes jerked to hers out of his trance, and she reached to the bottom of the bed to yank the blanket up to the middle of her back. When she glanced at him again, Bryce was arrogantly smiling at her. She turned over with a huff and hoped the doctor would be in soon. Of all the people Megan could’ve called, why on earth did she call him?
She knows how much I despise this cocky, egotistical, self-centered man.
They watched reruns of The Cosby Show in silence except for a few laughs here and there. The nurse came in briefly to check on her and to inform them that the doctor would be in momentarily with the test results. She felt much better than when she arrived. Considering the IV bag was almost empty, perhaps there was no need for another one. Besides, the fact that Bryce was behind her sent uncomfortable prickles along her skin, especially since his woodsy, spicy scent was now embedded on her thanks to his unruly kiss.
A light knock on the door was a sound of relief. She couldn’t stand another minute alone with Bryce. She sat up, and he came over to assist in propping up the pillows behind her back.
“Come in.”
An older Caucasian man wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck entered with a small laptop. She glanced at his name sewn onto the lapel and was relieved to see Doctor in front of Smith. Then fear set in and her leg began to tremble as she anxiously waited to hear what Dr. Smith had to say about her test results. What if something was actually wrong with her other than exhaustion and dehydration? She glanced at Bryce, who was still standing by the side of the bed, and instinctively reached out to squeeze his hand. He looked down, gently squeezed her hand back and gave her a comforting smile. But it wasn’t one of his cocky, arrogant, wicked smiles that he usually bestowed on her. It was honest and sincere.
“It’s going to be alright, Syd,” he reassured her, nodding his head before placing his attention back on the doctor.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Chase. I’m Dr. Smith.”
Bryce reached out to shake his hand, and she followed his action. When Bryce grabbed her hand once more, interlocking his fingers with hers, she was surprised. She couldn’t believe he was really keeping up this charade of being her husband.
“Well, Sydney, looks like you’ve been a very busy woman lately working around the clock,” Dr. Smith began, scrolling through his laptop screen. “According to your medical history, this isn’t the first time you’ve had this issue. Your primary care physician’s office sent over your information.”
“Yes...I just need some rest.”
“I agree, and you need to eat. Your blood sugar is low but everything else is fine. Luckily no concussion when you passed out and your CT scan was negative. However, Mr. Chase, I would closely watch over her during the next twelve hours just to make sure she’s fine. Symptoms to watch out for would be headache, vomiting, slurred speech, trouble remembering things, weakness and maybe a seizure, but I don’t see any of that happening. If it does, bring her back here. Just make sure she rests and eats something.”
“I’ll make sure she does.”
The doctor typed something on his laptop and glanced up at Bryce with a smile. “It’s Valentine’s Day, so make her a nice dinner. Spoil her tonight.”
“I was just thinking the same thing, Doc. I’ll definitely take care of my baby.”
Sydney thought surely she’d vomit followed by a seizure just from hearing the conversation between the men in front of her.
“So, I’
m free to go, Doc?”
“Yep. In about thirty minutes.”
Sydney breathed out a sigh of relief. Now she could get away from Bryce. “Oh. By the way. What kind of medication was in the IV bag?”
“No medication,” Dr. Smith answered, glancing up from his laptop. “Just nutrients to replenish your system.”
“Sooooooooo no real medication or anything?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” Syd nodded, slowly removing her hand from Bryce’s as her palm began to sweat. The doctor and Bryce continued to speak about the checking-out process, but they sounded like the adults on the Charlie Brown cartoons. She was speechless. She’d thought surely she was on some type of drug when Bryce had kissed her and she’d willingly responded—and rather enjoyed it. Why else would she even let him kiss her for so long? Sure, the man apparently knew how to kiss. His tongue had done things with hers that should’ve been outlawed in the state of Georgia. Heck, every state and country, even. And that was just in one place. She had other regions on her body that wouldn’t have minded a tongue journey. When he’d glided his hand sensually down her arm and pulled her by the hair deeper into his mouth, she had the urge to seduce him right then, not caring that nurses were watching their escapade. No. It had to be something in that damn bag to make her hallucinate and think that she could actually kiss Bryce Monroe and enjoy it. Enjoy him to the point of desiring more.
No. No. No. No. No.
Chapter 2
Once Sydney was settled onto the plush leather seat of Bryce’s Benz, she knew it was time to escape. Her goal had been to say goodbye to him in the elevator, but the hospital had other plans. She’d tried to protest to the nurse about taking her out in the wheelchair, but apparently it was protocol. Her devoted husband had skedaddled out to pull his car around to the patient pick-up area. When they arrived, he’d lifted her up gently from the chair and placed her in the front seat with a knowing gleam before turning around and thanking the nurse for taking good care of her.
Sydney turned to Bryce as he started the car and drove around the winding road toward the parking lot exit.
“Thank you for everything. I sincerely appreciate you coming and checking on me...for Megan.”
He glanced at her. “No problem. We’re family. So tell me how to get to your place.”
“Oh...no... You can just drop me off at the bus stop over on Church Street by the Infiniti dealership.” She grabbed her purse from the floor and rummaged through her wallet, searching for her MARTA card. “It’s on the left-hand side about one block from here.”
“You’re not taking the bus to get home.”
“It’s no problem. I take MARTA sometimes.” She found the card and slipped it into the inside pocket of her waist-length leather coat. A dizzy wave overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes for a second, resting her head on the headrest.
“Yes, but not when you’re being released from the hospital.”
“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, turning her head toward him. “Besides, it will be a madhouse for you to get in and out of the downtown Decatur area with all of the Valentine’s Day and normal rush hour traffic, and on a Friday at that.”
“I promised Megan to make sure you were fine.” His gaze rested on her as she peered at him through the slits of her eyes. “You can barely keep your eyes open as it is.”
She sat all the way up and opened her eyes wide, shooting him a glare. “I’m fine. I just need to go to sleep.”
“Exactly, and you want to take the bus. Ha! You’d fall asleep and wake up hours later with all of your valuables missing. I’m taking you home.” He pushed a button on his navigation system. “Type in your address and then lay the seat back and get some rest.”
Clearly, she wasn’t going to win this argument, and she wasn’t surprised. She’d seen him in action in the courtroom plenty of times. While she may have not always agreed with the outcome, Bryce had always led a very convincing argument.
She typed in her address and pushed the button on the side of the seat to recline it back. “Fine, but only so my sister won’t worry.” She slid her shades from the top of hair over her eyes and then closed them as she sighed.
Thirty minutes later, Sydney awoke to him shaking her lightly. She opened her eyes to see her Craftsman-style house in front of her and was relieved to be home. Now she could finally take a shower and scrub his scent off her despite the fact that she actually liked the woodsy fragrance.
“Thank you again. I’ll let Megan know I’m home.”
“You’re welcome.” He got out and trekked around the car to open her door.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“No problem.” He opened the back door and grabbed a bouquet of a dozen red roses, handing them to her. “While you were snoring, I bought these from a man off of the exit ramp. They were his last bunch. Didn’t want the brother out there for too long. It’s getting cold out here. So happy Valentine’s Day,” he said with a smirk.
She inhaled the light fragrance of the petals and rested her eyes on him. “Thank you for the roses, but I don’t snore,” she said, shaking her head and raking her eyes over him in disdainment.
He choked out a laugh. “Um...like hell you don’t. You were calling hogs, cows and sheep. But in your defense, I know you’ve had a long, exhausting week.”
He stepped around to his trunk and pulled out a gym bag. Sydney tilted her head as he began to walk alongside her to the porch.
“You have any dogs?” he asked as she unlocked the red door that Megan had insisted on selecting when she’d remodeled the 1920s bungalow into an updated contemporary-designed home in an upcoming neighborhood outside of Atlanta. Megan and her associates at Chase and Whitmore Designs remodeled Sydney’s home last summer for a segment on Megan’s decorating show, The Best Decorated Homes.
“Um...no. No pets,” she said, setting her boot halfway inside the foyer while the rest of her body remained on the porch. “Thank you again.”
Raising an eyebrow, he swished his mouth to one side. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
She pushed the door and opened the alarm panel on the wall to stop the aggravating beeping. “Aren’t you leaving?”
“No. Dr. Smith said you need someone to watch over you for the next twelve hours, and I told him I would.”
“Wh...wait.” She glanced at her watch. It was six-thirty. Was he going to spend the night? “That won’t be necessary.”
“Even though your CT scans were fine, you just never know. You could faint again, bump your head and then Megan will kill me for leaving you alone.”
A devilish grin formed as she glared up at his six-foot-two frame. “Mmm...” She nodded with a smirk.
“Don’t get any ideas, woman.”
“Darn it. And to think I was going to fake a swoon.”
“Swoon? I take it you watch classic movies and read books like Little Women and Pride and Prejudice,” he said, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Yep, and tonight we’re watching Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant movies until I fall asleep.”
“Then I’ll be asleep before you,” he mumbled.
She faced him, hands on hips with pursed lips. “You’re more than welcome to leave.”
“Nope. We’ll watch your girlie chick flicks. Even though personally I thought you were more into movies like Bad Boys and Beverly Hills Cop.”
“I am, but sometimes I need to escape from my real life and watch something out of my norm like Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”
“I’ve seen it once with my mom years ago. It’s her favorite movie and store. Dad buys her something from there all the time. In fact, so do I,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Usually for Mother’s Day.”
For a moment, she’d forgotten about his rich-boy lifestyle. For just a mo
ment, he was a regular guy, not a millionaire standing on her hardwood floor in her 1,500-square-foot house, wearing an Armani suit and a Ralph Lauren trench coat. Not to mention a watch that probably cost three times more than her yearly salary.
He stared at her intently and stepped closer. She thought surely he was going to kiss her again, but instead, the fire in his eyes was erased, and a relaxed, lazy smile appeared on his face. “I kinda like Cary Grant. He had a certain cool swagger to him.”
Bryce tossed his bag on the floor and pulled his overcoat closer to his body. She hadn’t been home in almost two days, and she’d forgotten to leave on the heat. Sydney moved to the panel on the opposite wall and slid the thermostat into the on position, setting the heat to a comfortable temperature.
He followed her through the foyer to the living area, and she noticed her mail in a basket on the coffee table. Apparently, the cleaning lady had come that morning, as she always did on Fridays. She sat the roses next to the mail. She’d have to tend to both later. Right now she needed to be alone. Away from him.
“The guestroom is through there.” She pointed to a door adjacent to the living area. “It has a full bathroom, and the kitchen is the next room over. Look on the fridge and call the pizza joint around the corner. They will deliver. Put your car in the garage. It’s going to be below forty degrees, and I doubt your Benz has ever slept outside. I’m going to take a shower.”
Sydney trekked away from him, straight down the hallway on the other side of the living area that led to her office and the master bedroom. She closed the door to her room, flicked on the light switch, threw off her clothes and left them where they’d landed. Grabbing her cordless phone from her nightstand, she dialed her twin’s cell phone number.