by Cox, Carrie;
I practically ran down the stairs after breakfast to let myself into Jack’s side of the house.
Jack was still undergoing his physio session with Brian, who was working him hard. They were talking in lowered voices, but again it sounded like they were arguing.
I was starting to think Jack never did anything without arguing about it first.
As I entered the room, Brian was saying, “I want you to use them for at least two hours every day.”
Jack glared at the crutches in Brian’s hands. “I’m not ready for them.”
“Well, I say you are,” Brian said. “And I’m the expert.”
“What about Dr. Silverstein at the hospital? Has he really approved the use of these?”
Brian ignored Jack’s protestations and caught sight of me at the doorway. “I’m telling you, Jack, two hours a day. Kristina will tell me if you don’t.”
I swallowed nervously, not wanting to be the subject of Jack’s bad mood.
Jack turned, finally noticing I was there, and he glared at me over his shoulder. “Can you believe this? He wants me to get up on crutches, and I can barely hold myself up for ten minutes on this thing.” He pointed to the parallel bars, which Brian was starting to dismantle.
“I suppose you could try,” I said.
The furious expression on Jack’s face made me wish I had said nothing.
He shook his head and turned away from both of us, wheeling himself as far from us as he could and stared out of the window.
Brian caught my eye, smiled and moved over to pat my hand. “Keep encouraging him,” he said quietly so Jack couldn’t hear. “It won’t be easy, but I think he’ll get there.”
I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
As Brian continued to pack up his equipment, I moved across the room to sit by Jack at the window.
“Have you had breakfast?” I asked. “Or do you want me to make you some eggs?”
Jack looked at me and said nothing for a moment. He had a sulky expression on his face, almost boy-like, and I figured I was in for a long day.
After Brian left, Jack glared again at the crutches.
“Are you really going to tell tales on me if I don’t use them?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t you use them? Don’t you want to?”
He shook his head in disgust. “It’s not quite as easy as that. You don’t understand. I have seen six doctors so far, and every one of them, save the last, told me that I would never be able to walk properly again. My brother won’t take no for an answer so he just employs more and more doctors until one gives him the answer he needs.”
“Brian is the only one who thinks you can walk again?” I asked.
Jack shook his head. “Brian’s a physio, not the doctor. But he’s associated with the doctor that Alexander has employed. Funnily enough, Alexander has also given the doctor a huge donation to his medical practice.”
I frowned. “You mean, Alexander is paying him to say you’re going to walk again?”
But Jack wasn’t listening. He was still staring at the crutches. “It’s as if he thinks I don’t want to do it.”
I shrugged. “I think you should try, but if you really don’t want to, I won’t tell tales.”
He looked up at me, a curious smile on his face. “Really?”
“It’s your decision,” I said. I made my way into the small kitchenette and filled the kettle. “I’m going to make tea, do you want one?”
Jack refused, and when I had turned my back, he reached for the crutches. I know he did because I heard them clatter to the floor. I forced myself not to turn around or go and help him.
I didn’t know much about medical care, but I did know about male pride. This was something he needed to do on his own.
So I did my best to ignore the noise coming from behind me. Although, I was alert and ready to rush over to him in case he fell over or hurt himself.
I poured the boiling water onto a tea bag and watched the steam curl upwards while chewing my lip.
I counted to ten, and I didn’t hear any crashing or banging, so I figured everything was good. I turned and saw Jack had got to his feet, leaning on both the crutches. I beamed at him.
“Wow!”
He gave me a sarcastic look. “Yeah, amazing, I managed to stand up. Give me a round of applause.”
I shook my head at him as I pulled the teabag out of my cup. “It’s an achievement. Don’t belittle yourself.”
He made a grunting noise and took a couple more steps around the room.
I wondered if we could go out into the gardens. Should I push my luck? It was such a gorgeous day.
“Do you want to go outside? I mean, not far, but just to get some fresh air?”
He looked at me, uncertainty hovering over his face. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I could bring the chair with us if you want, in case you get tired. I’d love to get some sunshine,” I said, and I pushed up the sleeves of my shirt.
I noticed that Jack was looking at me slightly differently. His gaze was heated, and I felt suddenly very aware of the sheer blouse I was wearing. I’d never noticed how thin the material was before.
His gaze traveled down to my waist and lingered before traveling back up. “Yes, you do look quite pale.”
I grimaced at him. “Thanks very much!”
I left my unfinished tea on the side and headed to get his chair. Grabbing the handles, I wheeled it forward towards the French doors.
“Well are you coming?” I said, and I looked over my shoulder, just in time to see that his eyes were most definitely focused on my backside.
He grinned cheekily, and I couldn’t do anything but just shake my head. I guessed not everything about him was broken.
I wheeled the chair out into the sunshine, and Jack followed me on his crutches. His progress was slow but definite. The muscles in his arms were extremely well developed and obviously didn’t tire easily.
This was brilliant; I didn’t understand why Brian hadn’t got him on crutches before. We walked a little way out into the garden and we chatted about random things. Every now and again, Jack would ask a question, trying to find out something about my life before I arrived here. But I did my best to avoid answering. I had pretty good avoidance tactics.
I knew he was only interested because he thought I was hiding something, but I was not about to spill my guts. We were here to sort him out. To fix him, not me.
I didn’t really notice how far we’d gone until we were almost at the cliff edge. We’d been walking uphill as well but the wheelchair was a state-of-the-art machine that was unbelievably light, so I’d barely noticed pushing it.
The weather was so much better than the day I’d arrived. The sun warmed my skin and glinted off the turquoise sea.
I’d made a comment about how gorgeous the sea looked when I turned and noticed that Jack was looking very pale. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. I pushed the lock down on the wheelchair’s wheels and then turned to face him.
I put my hands out to steady him. “Are you okay? You’re looking really pale.”
He blinked at me, and I noticed how tense his muscles were.
“Are your arms getting tired?” I asked.
“It’s not my arms,” he said. “It’s my legs. They hurt; they ache, like deep in the bone.”
“Ok,” I said. “Do you think you can get back?”
We both looked back at the house, and I was shocked at how far it was. How could I have been so stupid? This was the first time Jack had been out on his crutches, and I’d let him go too far. What was I thinking?
No wonder I had to drop out of my nursing program.
“Okay,” I said. “Well, we’ve brought the wheelchair, so we may as well use it.”
Jack looked at it with disgust. For a moment, I thought he was going to explode again, he looked absolutely furious. But then he raised his head, looked up to the sky and sighed. He moved towards the chair. Letting go of his crutches, he
reluctantly sat back in the chair.
I gathered the crutches together, put them over the arms of the wheelchair and began to push the chair towards the house.
Even though we were going downhill Jack’s weight in the chair made it so much harder.
The path wasn’t paved so that made it harder too. The wheels sank into the gravel and resisted my pushing.
Jack noticed how hard it was for me. He turned around. “Are you okay? I can push the wheels.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Just relax. We’ll be back in no time at all.”
He was still really pale, and I was worried. I decided to call Brian as soon as we got back.
It took an age to get to the house. My arms were killing me, and I had sweat running down the small of my back.
Luckily, Alexander had employed people to make sure all of Jack’s rooms were wheelchair-friendly and that included a ramp by the French doors, so Jack didn’t have to get out of the chair to get back inside.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked me again. I didn’t understand why he was concerned about me. He was the one in pain.
“Honestly, I’m fine,” I said.
“I didn’t think it would be so difficult to push,” Jack said. “I’ve got an electric one, but I never use it. It’s much bulkier.”
“Maybe we’ll take that next time,” I said, trying to hide the fact that I was desperately out of breath.
I finally managed to heave the wheelchair up the ramp and over the threshold.
Once we were inside, I tried to make sure Jack would be comfortable. “Do you want to stay in the chair or lie down?”
I chewed on my lip. He was still in obvious pain, and I was worried.
“I think I better lie down,” he said, and his voice was so low I could barely hear it. It was such a dramatic change. My heart thudded in my chest as I wheeled the chair into the bedroom and up to the bed and started to pull back the covers.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll just lie on top.”
Before I could move back around to help him out of the chair, he’d lifted himself up and pushed himself back onto the bed with practiced ease.
I took an unsteady breath. “Is there anything I can do?” I said. “Anything you need?”
He shook his head.
“Should I call someone?”
He shook his head again, firmly this time.
“No, I’ll be fine. I just need to rest. It was stupid of me to overdo it. It’s just this damn pain in my legs.” He leaned back, resting his head on his pillow and closing his eyes.
I hovered beside him for a while, not really knowing what to do before I decided to leave him to relax. It couldn’t be very relaxing having someone staring at you while you’re trying to sleep. So I headed back into the living room.
Despite what Jack said, I was too worried not to tell somebody else what had happened. I was really scared I may have caused Jack permanent damage. I picked up the phone and the card Brian had given me and dialed his number.
“Brian, it’s me, Kristina. I’m really worried about Jack. We went for a walk on the crutches, and he came over really pale, and he said there’s a terrible pain in his legs, and I don’t know what to do,” I said all in a rush.
“Whoa. Calm down,” Brian said. “It’s not a problem. This is something that will happen when he tries to use his legs at first. His legs were shattered in the accident, and they’ve knitted back together, but they are far from perfect. He will be in pain, Kristina. It’s part of his recovery.”
“But there must be something I can do,” I said.
“There’s some cream, called muscle ease, in the cupboard,” Brian said. “You can massage that into his legs. That should help. Give him a couple of the pain killers in his bathroom cabinet. He doesn’t like taking them, but do your best to persuade him. Give him two now, and another two in four hours’ time if he’s still in pain, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, but I didn’t sound convinced. My shaky voice betrayed me.
“Look, if you’re still worried about him and the massage and the tablets don’t help, then give me a call back in an hour or so, and I’ll come back in.”
I exhaled in utter relief. “Thank you, Brian.”
12
I went into the bathroom and rattled around in the medicine cabinet. I found the tube of muscle ease at the back on the top shelf behind the shaving foam. It looked like some kind of muscle oil. I unscrewed the cap and took a sniff. It smelled of menthol. I guessed it was like a muscle relaxant.
I grabbed the white bottle of prescription painkillers as well, and as Jack heard me rustling around in the bathroom, he called out, “What are you doing in there?”
I walked back through to the bedroom with the muscle ease in one hand and the pain killers in the other.
He rolled his eyes at me. “You spoke to Brian.”
I nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me about the pain killers?”
He didn’t answer.
I walked up to his bedside and put the muscle oil and the pain killers on the bedside cabinet. I then extracted two tablets and handed them to him.
He pushed himself up in bed, and I handed him his glass of water.
“Thanks,” he said and swallowed both tablets.
“Are you angry with me?” I asked. “For calling Brian?”
“No,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m quite looking forward to it.”
I frowned. “Looking forward to it?”
He smiled. His face was still pale, but it transformed with his grin. His eyes sparkled.
“Yeah, because now you’re going to massage me with that oil.” He winked at me.
I flushed beet red and quickly averted my gaze to stare down at the bed covers.
I wished I could stop the blushing. It was so embarrassing. I should be more practical and nurse-like. I glanced at the tube of oil again and gathered my courage. I could do this. I had to. It wasn’t a big deal. He was a patient and this was a treatment.
So I’d be up close and personal with him for ten minutes, but I could handle that, couldn’t I?
I had to.
I cleared my throat and picked up the massage oil. “Right, so, where exactly do I use this?”
Jack spluttered a laugh. “It’s okay, you only need to do my legs.”
I looked down at him on the bed and saw my first challenge: he was still wearing his t-shirt and jeans. I wasn’t sure what to do. Did I take them off, or should he?
I licked my lips. “Um, I suppose we need to take your jeans off.”
He nodded. “Yep, that’ll be good.”
He grinned at me again. I could sense it, but I wouldn’t look at his face because I knew I would flush a thousand shades of red for the millionth time. Instead, I put the muscle ease oil on the bed beside him and reached towards the fly on his jeans. My hands started to shake.
My hands were trembling so much I barely managed to open the first button. I could feel my breathing getting faster, and I hoped Jack didn’t notice.
But he reached for my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine.
I looked up at him. “Did I do something wrong?”
He wasn’t grinning anymore, but there was a look of concern on his face. “Are you nervous?” he asked. “Your hands are shaking.”
I pulled my hands away. “No,” I snapped. “Of course not. It’s just because the air conditioning is on. I’m sensitive to cold.”
“Uh huh,” he said with a knowing smile.
I huffed under my breath and grabbed the tube of muscle ease.
“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Jack said. “I could do it myself.”
I shook my head. “You wouldn’t be able to massage it in properly. It’s my job. I’ve done nursing, you know. It’s no big deal to me.”
Jack nodded. “Okay then, Nurse Kristina.” He winked again. “Ready when you are.”
Damn it. I was blushing again. Seriously, if there
was a record for number of blushes per day, I think I’d smash it.
I took a deep breath and undid the rest of his buttons. My fingers felt stiff and clumsy, but he helped me and eased his jeans off himself.
I found it surprising how normal his legs looked. They both had scars, but they looked muscular and strong. He moved them easily too, although he flinched with the pain. When I had first heard about this job, I thought the guy I would be looking after was paralyzed. The accident could have been so much worse.
Jack winced again as he moved his legs. It was obvious he was still in a lot of pain.
I brought up the tube of massage oil and squeezed it onto my hands. In my nervous state, I managed to squeeze far too much out at once. It spurted out onto my palm. I don’t know what the heck was going on in my mind these days. It seemed like everything seemed to have an erotic innuendo behind it. I was in danger of becoming obsessed with thinking about sex when I was around Jack.
I’d read once that a man thinks about sex once every twenty seconds. I’d never believed it. I mean once every twenty seconds? That’s crazy. But I’d changed my mind. When I was around Jack Harding I found out that it was indeed possible to think about sex that often.
I gave Jack an embarrassed smile as I set the tube down on the cabinet beside his bed. He gave me another knowing look, and I really hoped he couldn’t tell what kind of thoughts were running through my mind.
The muscle ease was actually less of an oil and more of a jelly. I rubbed it between my palms, and I felt the tingle of the menthol. It had a strong smell, and it made me feel a bit light headed – at least I told myself it was the gel making me light headed and not my proximity to Jack Harding.
I shifted my eyes to the lower part of Jack’s body, trying hard to concentrate on his legs only. That was not easy. He was lying there in his underwear. At least he hadn’t taken his T-shirt off, so that was one less distraction. I was very glad of that.
Liar, a little voice in my head said.
I tried to concentrate.
His legs were long and muscular. I could clearly see the two parallel scars running along his calves and thighs, caused by the operation to pin his bones back together after the crash. The actual scars from the accident were less uniform and much smaller. They’d almost faded. I only noticed them because the scars were paler than the rest of his tanned skin.