"Hmmm..."
"Anyway, what's got into you? I had you down for a shy girl and now you're all over me."
The color flushed to her cheeks and she smiled.
"Can't stop thinking about last night," she said as she bunched up her shoulders and cocked her head to the side like a mischievous school girl.
"Me neither."
I leaned across the table and took her hand, making sure to obscure its view with the menu.
"Do you believe in fate?" I whispered.
She raised her eyebrows and laughed.
"Fate?"
She licked her lips in thought as her eyes lit up.
"Actually I do,” she said.“When you work in hospitals for long enough you see a side to people when they're at their most vulnerable and it, I don’t know, reveals an almost mystical side to them."
She stopped and looked down at her lap.
"Go on," I urged.
"Sorry, it must sound so stupid to someone as intelligent as you."
"Not at all. Please, what were you saying?"
She swallowed and rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb.
"People have died in front of me, all sorts of people. Whether they were old or young, things seemed to have a way to make sense at the end, to come together as though someone or something was pulling the strings of the universe into place."
"Like their death was meant to happen at that specific moment in time?" I asked.
A subtle thought erudite look flickered across her eyes.
"Yeah, like it was their time to go."
I tangled my fingers around hers and felt how small and fragile they were. Looking into her eyes, I saw how fragile she was too, how delicate and small, but there was something in that head of hers that was different, something that set her apart from all the other girls.
"This may sound crazy," I began, nervously, "But I think it was fate that you and I met. With the crash, the connection to the hospital, last night... It all came together too easily like we were meant to fit into each other's lives."
Now it was my turn to be embarrassed and I pulled my hand away and blushed.
"Sorry, that was too forward of me."
"No! Not at all," she cried.
"It was. You must find me really strange and silly."
She reached over and stroked a finger down the side of my face, her rosebud lips curled up into a perfect, pink crescent.
"You were there when I needed someone to save me. You were there when no one else was. That to me is a sort of fate."
My heart danced as I looked into her eyes. Taking her hand, I pressed it into my chest and hoped she felt it. Out the corner of my eye, I could just about make out the blurred, blonde image of Sandra at a nearby table, her gaze burning into the side of my head.
Looking over, I saw her watching us.
"Come on, you wanna get outta here?" I asked while dropping a couple bills onto the table. "I think we're starting to become conspicuous."
"Sure. I should get to work anyway."
"Work?"
With the chaos of the last few days, I had lost track of time.
"Have a day off," I suggested. "Spend the day with me.”
"Oh... I don't think I'll be allowed a day off," she moaned.
"Nonsense. I'll call the chief myself."
~
The sun broke across the sky in waves of orange and pink. Etta linked her arm around mine as we walked and laughed when I told her about the time I left a pair of scissors inside a patient’s stomach, an occurrence that takes place in hospitals more than people would believe.
"That's awful. What if he sued you?"
"Ah it was fine. I managed to remove it before any harm was done."
She shook her head in disbelief.
"I'm getting to see a side to the hospital now that I wish I didn't know existed. “
Her innocence was so naive, so pure.
"There are so many things taking place you'd scarcely believe it."
She slowed to a halt beside the river. A few feet away, my car lay parked against a bollard, the reflection of the clouds racing across the windshield.
"Something tells me you're a man of secrets," she said.
"Really?"
I laughed and scratched at my five day old stubble.
"What makes you say that?"
"Oh, I dunno. I suppose it's the job, the status, the money..."
"Money?"
"Aren't all rich men surrounded by mystery?"
She wasn't wrong.
Ushering her toward the car, I clicked the locks open and opened the passenger door.
"Such a gentleman," she smiled as she slid inside.
She moved like a girl who'd been to finishing school but I knew she hadn't. There was a poise and grace to her movements that transcended her jeans and sweatshirt. She wouldn't look out of place at a charity gala or in the pages of a magazine but she seemed oblivious to her charms.
As I sat beside her, I watched her nibble on her thumbnail for a moment before I pulled her arm away.
"Don't do that. There's nothing to be nervous about."
"Isn't there?" she replied.
There was always something to be nervous about, especially if you were a young girl in a hostel full of perfect victims.
"Craig... your boyfriend was called, right?" I asked to change the subject.
"That's right," she frowned and continued to bite her nails with an added ferocity. "He was my fiancé, actually, but I guess he didn't want to be."
That profound look was back in her eyes again as she gazed out over the river.
"Do you miss him?" I asked.
She thought for a second, her thumb still pushed between her teeth.
"No," she finally said. "If you'd have asked me a couple weeks ago if I could live without him I'd have burst into tears just at the thought, but something clicked when I found out he'd cheated. It was an instant hatred, an immediate and desperate urge to get as far away from him as possible.
"I understand."
With her head still facing forward, she looked toward me.
"I bet guys like you are never unlucky in love."
There was a heaviness in my stomach, the unsettling and terrifying feeling that I was about to spill out my feelings without being able to stop myself.
"I've never been unlucky, but I've never been lucky either. In fact, I've never had anything serious."
With a skeptical frown, she lowered her hand and began picking at a loose thread on her jeans.
"Never? You've never wanted to get married?"
"Of course! It's not as easy as just wanting to though, is it? I mean don’t get me wrong, I've had some great relationships, especially in my college years. They burned bright then burned out and that suited me fine. I always hoped there'd be, you know, the one but I was happy to wait."
What was I doing? I'd never said this stuff to anyone before.
She rolled over in her seat to face me and rested her hand on my waist. It was warm through my shirt and the image of her dragging her fingernails over my skin flashed in my mind. I wanted that again, that connection, that sense of oneness.
"Have you ever been in love?" she asked, her eyes wide like a doll's.
I tried to remember a time when I could have been, searched through my mind for a feeling, a memory of someone I truly was in love with but there was nothing, just blankness.
"My mother was the only love of my life," I said and instantly regretted. "Everything I've achieved was for her."
Etta's face fell and she cast her eyes down to the floor.
"You must think I'm a weirdo," I said.
"No... I think it's beautiful that you loved her so much. Did she die young?"
I nodded.
"Grew up just me and my dad."
Dad...It felt like an alien word, three letters pressed together in a lie.
"Are you close with him?" she asked, not realizing the power of her question.
"No," I said and turned away.
In the distance, I could see the black, shadowy figure of the blind man shuffling along the cobbles. He was laughing to himself, roaring as he tilted his head back. The poor guy.
"Close..." I said the word to myself. "No. I've never wanted to be."
A silence hung thick and heavy between us. I'd said too much, and put her off. I sounded like a neurotic with too much baggage and a history of emotional problems. And of course I had to tell her about my mother.
She probably thinks I'm Norman Bates.
"I'm not close to my father either," she said.
Her eyes were focused on a solitary duck on the river as it sat on an island of garbage and shopping trolleys.
"He left when I was a baby," she continued. "Don't think he ever thought about me again."
"I'm sure he did," I said to soothe her worries.
"It's okay. I don't mind if he didn't."
She pursed her lips and placed her hand on my thigh.
"But I don't wanna talk about me. I'm boring," she forced a laugh. "Let's talk about you, international man of mystery, genius inventor and hero of this fine and windy city."
I didn't want to talk about myself. There were always times when I was forced to and it was always a chore. Most of the time I'd blurt out generic facts but never said anything of any meaning. Suddenly, in her presence, I felt as though I could say anything and everything and she’d listen with that sweet smile of hers, nodding and holding my hand.
"What do you want to know?"
"Erm..like, I dunno, tell me a secret, something nobody else knows about you."
There was one thing I was desperate to tell her, I'd wanted to tell someone since I was a child, since my mom died and left me with the man who could do what he wanted with me. But I couldn't tell her about that, not now, not ever. Instead, I thought of the stupidest thing I could remember from my childhood.
"Okay," I took a deep breath. "Once, when I was seven...." I took another deep breath. "I... fell down the stairs naked carrying a box of macaroni."
Her bottom lip began to quiver. I could tell she was trying to keep it together but there was a tear forming in the corner of her eye.
"The macaroni was hot..."
She vibrated as thought she was about to blow up, her cheeks getting redder by the second. At last, when I was worried she was about to pop a blood vessel, she burst out laughing, folding over as she chuckled in silence. The only thing that told me she wasn't having a seizure was the occasional squeak she emanated.
With her hands still clapped over her mouth, she sat back up and continued to laugh as she peered out from between her fingers.
"A box," she spluttered. "Who the hell walks around with a box of macaroni and why were you going down the stairs with it? Was it, like, in your bedroom or something?"
I had never felt like more of an idiot but strangely, seeing her laugh at me was kind of nice. Most people were so busy trying to impress me I couldn't have a genuine human moment with them. Still, it would be nice if she could stop at some point.
"On a scale of lava to Mother Theresa's sex drive, how hot was it?"
"Bowels of hell!" I laughed. "I mean, we're talking a scalded scrotum and everything."
“Jesus Christ!”
A beam of light shone through the windshield as she giggled, illuminating her iridescent skin. Looking up, I saw the sky had turned a perfect blue.
“Hey, you wanna get outta here? Go for a drive somewhere?”
“Sure,” she smiled as she dabbed a tear from her eye. “Where would you wanna take me?”
Chapter Three
Etta
"I feel bad for taking the day off," I said as I watched the trees shimmer past the window.
"What?" he spluttered. "You were in a crash for Christ's sake. The hospital shouldn't expect you back for months."
I gave him a caustic look which he immediately understood.
"They're slave driving bastards sometimes aren't they? I know how they treat the nurses."
"You do? I only heard doctors ever complain about how ditzy we are."
He sighed and braked as we turned a sharp corner.
"Yeah well some doctors need a reality check. You guys don't get paid enough."
The car slinked its way down into the forest until the sunlight failed to penetrate the leaves. I'd been so caught up in the conversation, and so lost in the dream of being in his company that I never stopped to wonder where we were going.
"The lake," he said as though reading my mind.
"Hmmm?"
"I bet you're wondering where we're going," he smiled. "Lake Langridge."
"Oh."
I'd heard of the place growing up. It was a hotspot for teenagers to go missing and I never felt the urge to investigate. Not to mention it was in the middle of nowhere and the roads were treacherous. Not that Lincoln seemed to mind. He drove with ease down the narrow road with the branches tickling the side of the car.
"Isn't that place haunted or something?" I asked.
He chortled and licked his lips.
"Or something."
As we dipped down further into the foliage, the sun disappeared from view completely. It felt like sliding down a rabbit hole and judging by the darkness that drifted far off into the distance, I wasn't sure if we'd come out the other end.
"You seem to know your way around here," I said.
It was then I realized we'd not seen a single car for over half an hour.
"Well yeah," he shrugged. "I don't live far from here."
"You live out here! I didn't think anybody dared to live out here. Seems so far from the city."
He didn't reply.
Far ahead, a speck of light began to sparkle through the trees, growing as we approached. Soon the light was shining into the windshield like we were emerging from a near death experience. When we escaped out the tunnel of overarching evergreens, the sun blistered into the front of the car, the lake glittering in front of us.
"That was quite a journey," I sighed as he parked up close to the water.
He let out a slow exhale and flung his head back.
"I've been meaning to come here all week," he said, the reflection of the lake making shapes across his body. "Come on, let's go for a walk."
He clicked open the door and stretched his legs. If it was anybody else I'd think he wanted to bring me out here to kill me and I cursed my newfound inner cynicism. Last week I'd have trusted anyone. Today, I was a little more wary.
"Come on!" he waved me outside as he opened my door. "The fresh air will do you good."
It smelled clean and earthen and as he slipped his hand into mine, I leaned comfortably into his shoulder.
"You know a long time ago they used to insist on patients coming out to the country to recuperate. The fresh air was seen to be an elixir. Now it's all complicated drugs and technology and patients would rather play on their smartphone than be anywhere like this."
"You sound kinda bitter about that."
"I am."
For a few minutes we walked in silence. Up high, birds chirped while further into the virgin wood, a woodpecker hammered furiously.
Lincoln let go of my hand and took a few steps toward a cluster of rocks. Sitting on the largest, one, he pulled out a hip flask from inside his blazer and took a thirsty sip before offering it to me.
"Doctor!" I gasped. "Drinking before noon!"
"I know, I know. I'm terrible."
Pressing the cold lip of the flask to my mouth, I let the acrid liquid drift back into my throat. Then I coughed and almost hurled the thing back at him.
"Jesus, what is that? Rocket fuel?"
He laughed and screwed the cap on before patting the rock beside him.
"It's Johnny Walker, actually and it's my favorite."
As I sat beside him he opened his arm and I fitted inside.
"This is gorgeous."
"Isn't it?"
He kissed the top of my head.
<
br /> "Is this where you bring all your dates?" I asked.
He gave me an offended look.
"You make it sound like there are dozens of them. If you must know, I've never brought anyone here."
For some reason, that sounded stranger to me.
"So you come here alone?"
He nodded and took another sip of scotch before pushing the flask back into his pocket.
"I never used to. My mom used to bring me here sometimes, you know, when my dad was in one of his...moods. That's what she called them, moods. If I had a choice I'd have named them something a bit more accurate. Sadistic rage-filled fugue states or selfish binge drinking sessions. But when you're a kid, mood sounds a lot less frightening I suppose."
I searched his face for a sign of his past. He always looked so distinguished, so refined with an almost regal disposition. There was no hint to the tragedy of his upbringing, or the poverty he hinted at. He certainly left no traces of it in his accent and had crafted his image into the quintessential billionaire. It seemed he'd worked so hard on forgetting his past while simultaneously dwelling on it.
"Thank you," I said.
"For what?" he looked puzzled as he rubbed my back.
"For bringing me here. It must be a very personal space for you."
A slight smile twitched as his cheeks.
"You look beautiful today, you know that."
"The sun makes everyone look lovely," I replied as I felt my face redden.
"One day I'm going to insist on you accepting a compliment," he said before leaning in to kiss me.
It could have been the rare sunshine or the kiss but either way I was becoming hot. I pushed my mouth against his and tasted the whiskey on his lips, felt the softness of our saliva mingling on his tongue. He smelled fresh yet rich with his cologne being an instant source of arousal to me. I breathed it in deeply as I moaned gently, his hand clamping down on my thigh as I wished it to travel higher.
My own hand rushed straight to his stomach to feel his solid abs. Tearing at his shirt with a shameful desperation, I pressed my fingers deep into his skin eager to feel his strength, his unwavering masculinity.
I didn't need to look down to know he was hard, I could smell it, imagine the end becoming wet as the blood rushed to the tip. I was growing wet myself, feeling hotter by the second, feeling almost pained by the need to be touched.
Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series Page 7