by Linda Wisdom
Greg returned to the room ten minutes later with a faint smile on his lips.
“Lecher,” Jill accused mildly, watching him sit down.
He looked at her with the proper degree of innocence. “Me?”
“You,” she pronounced. “You never look at me the way you looked at the nurse.”
“And I won’t look at you that way as long as you wear those baggy sweatpants you usually have on when we’re working,” he countered. “Oh, yes, this came by special messenger.” He pulled a package out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Jill.
“I think you’d better unwrap it for me.” She flexed her hand, which still felt a little stiff from the IV needle.
Greg opened the box and pulled out a small furry gorilla wearing horn-rimmed glasses.
“Give me a break!” she said with a groan, closing her eyes. “That is the fifty-third Hairy Harry I’ve been given.”
“Don’t denigrate the gorilla who pays your charge accounts,” he teased, setting the toy on the table.
Jill winced when she shifted her position. Greg was quick to see her reaction.
“Do you need a pain pill?” he asked quickly. “Do you want me to ask the nurse if you can have one now?”
She shook her head. “My brain already feels like day-old oatmeal. Could I have some more water please?”
As Greg held the cup to her lips, he couldn’t help but marvel that Jill’s eyelashes were so long and thick. Her normal color was also returning, so she didn’t look as pale as she had the day before. He had forgotten that her eyes were such a deep shade of blue; the color of rich cobalt, he decided. And her mouth; did it always look so moist and inviting? He also noticed the taut thrust of her breasts against the cotton of her hospital gown when she shifted in the bed.
Greg gave a mental shake of his head. If he had been without a woman for several months, he could have understood his wandering thoughts. But he had no excuse. Jill was a business partner, and he wasn’t going to think of her as anything but. Due to their living and working relationship, it had to be.
Jill was doing a bit of thinking on her own at the same time. She couldn’t help but look at Greg’s hand as he held the glass for her. The fingertips were slightly blunt, but she knew they had to be sensitive. Soft-looking black hairs finely coated his arm and fingers. A gold ring that resembled an ancient medallion adorned the third finger. She could remember the day he had bought it; she had been with him. The same with the Rolex watch strapped to his wrist; a gift to himself when they received their first multi-book contract. She couldn’t remember his eyes ever looking such a soft shade of gray as they did now. Her lashes lifted, and she found him gazing at her in an intense way.
Greg’s lips twitched. He hadn’t missed Jill studying him and then blushing when she realized he saw through her. Funny, he didn’t know women could still do that.
Jill lay back, exhausted by her few movements.
“You’d better get some rest,” he advised, suddenly feeling guilty for tiring her out. “I’ll be back this evening.”
“I need some of my things,” she said drowsily. “How can I be tired? I’ve had some very long naps in the past twenty-four hours.”
Greg smiled as he watched Jill’s eyes slowly close.
Her breathing was deep and regular. He stood and bent over to drop a kiss on her forehead. He was certainly seeing a different picture from the Jill he worked with every day.
An hour later Greg used his key to open Jill’s side of the large house and walked through the living room into the bedroom.
Inside Jill’s bedroom he found her carry-on bag near the door and emptied the contents on the bed. He was sure Mrs. Hathaway, the housekeeper they shared, would be willing to clean up in here.
It took some searching for Greg to find Jill’s nightgowns in the dresser and a suitable robe in her packed closet. Greg raised his brows at the sight of the filmy French-cut bikini panties and bras that were nothing more than teasing wisps of lace, not to mention other sexy pieces of lingerie. If he had known her grubby jeans or shorts with oversize sweatshirts covered these tasty bits, he would have looked at her with different eyes during their working day! He plucked her cosmetic bag out of the pile of dirty clothes on the bed and threw it back in the suitcase, along with the nightgowns and robe. He zipped the case closed and carried it downstairs to the large rooms that had been converted into their combined offices and a conference room.
Framed book covers of Hairy Harry’s Adventures filled one wall, and various toys of the famous gorilla adorned several shelves along another wall. While the book covers stated the author’s name as Tilly Cook, she was really Jill Blake and Greg Richmond. There were times when Greg and Jill alike weren’t too fond of the hapless gorilla, but they weren’t about to complain about the sizable royalty checks that rolled in twice a year, not to mention the subsidiary rights fees, thanks to cartoon featurettes on Harry’s adventures that were syndicated on cable television and toys that had come out two years ago.
Greg called their agent to give an updated report on her progress and suggested that their editor be contacted, since they would require a later deadline for their next book.
He dropped into his desk chair and stared at the blank computer monitor sitting on the computer table adjacent to his large desk.
He couldn’t help thinking back over the past five years, the time he had been working with Jill. Their main joke was who would act as Tilly and who would go by the name of Cook the few times they made public appearances at writing conferences or booksellers’ conventions.
Someone as rugged-looking and masculine as Greg didn’t look like an author of children’s books, although it was something he had always wanted to do. The time he had spent at his job as a statistician for an insurance company hadn’t been as rewarding as the evening hours, when he had worked on his writing. While his job hadn’t been rewarding, it had paid the bills. But, as his agent, Carlysle, had explained to him, the trouble was that while Greg’s plots had been strong and well written, he had no gift for dialogue and characterization. The agent had suggested that Greg meet one of his other clients, who had a gift for creating lovable characters and enchanting dialogue but dismal plot lines. Greg and Jill had met one evening for dinner, discussed their ideas, and ended up talking far into the night. Their partnership had blossomed immediately, and their first Hairy Harry book hit the bookstore shelves eighteen months later. Harry had turned out to be so lovable and appealing that it hadn’t been long before he expanded into other areas.
Two years ago Jill had found the house they now lived in and had fallen in love with it. She had had to do some fast talking to convince Greg to see it, but when he agreed, she had excitedly explained her idea to him. Living across town from each other had hampered their writing time, not to mention traveling back and forth when they worked late into the night. It wasn’t long before Greg had found himself shopping for the best interest rates for a mortgage, and Jill had talked to contractors about her plan for dividing the huge Victorian house. Even then he had thought to show her how many books they would have to sell to pay for their new home. She had blithely informed him that as long as both their families and friends wrote those cards and letters saying how much they enjoyed Hairy Harry, their finances would be in the black in no time.
The finished product had been admirable, and a testament to one of Jillâs earlier jobs, when she had been an executive assistant for the head designer in a well-known interior design firm. Street-level garages housed Greg’s Volvo and Jill’s classic Trans Am, with stairs leading to the first floor that had the two offices, a greenhouse and spa, and a small conference room where they could work together in comfort. Each office reflected its owner’s individual taste. Greg’s desk was an old-fashioned roll top with each cubbyhole filled with papers. His computer terminal and telephone were the only modern features in the room. Jill preferred a modular desk specially built for her computer equipment. Each terminal was synced w
ith the other so they could share their ideas while remaining in their respective offices if they wished. Separate stairways in the back of the house led to their individual living quarters, allowing them their privacy.
Upstairs, Greg’s apartment reflected his love for antiques. While only a thin coating of dust might be found on the light teak in Jill’s rooms, it wasn’t unusual to find a clean pair of Greg’s shorts behind a sofa cushion or an empty beer bottle standing on top of his chest of drawers. His untidy nature endeared him to women as they hovered over him, tidying his mess between their shared housekeeper’s weekly visits. One thing Greg would admit was that he never lacked for feminine companionship. Truth was, Jill never had that problem where men were concerned, either.
Greg suddenly thought of Cal, Jill’s latest boyfriend. Funny, he had figured the friendly neighborhood stockbroker would be someone permanent in Jill’s life, but it obviously hadn’t worked out. He wondered why she hadn’t been more upset. The fact that she hadn’t mentioned the breakup to him was the reason behind his silent questions. Jill had certainly been distraught when she and Josh Chandler had broken up a year ago, but even then she hadn’t discussed the man with Greg. After Greg had looked at her puffy and red-rimmed eyes for a week, he had been sorely tempted to blacken both of Josh’s eyes. To this day he hadn’t learned the reason for their split and doubted he ever would.
Greg yawned. He still needed to catch up on his sleep. He checked the answering machine, decided none of the messages was urgent, and retired upstairs for a short nap. He did stop long enough to call Jill’s mother and report her progress. Knowing how the fluffy-headed woman would be on the first plane if she thought her baby was in danger, he chose his words carefully. He knew Jill wouldn’t appreciate having her mother show up for a long stay. Greg had met Louisa Blake once, and that meeting had been more than enough to convince him that the no-nonsense Jill had to have been adopted. If Louisa showed up now, he didn’t doubt that Jill would take her ire out on Gregâin a most unpleasant manner.
Upstairs, he stepped over slacks, shirts and underwear scattered on the nut brown carpet and walked into the bathroom for a quick shower. Fifteen minutes later he was stretched out nude on his bed, but sleep didn’t come right away. For a brief few seconds the memory of Jill’s breasts pressed provocatively against the pale blue hospital gown teased his senses. He laughed and accused himself of being overtired. He still hadn’t questioned why he hadn’t felt bad about losing Rita. She certainly had been one of the most experienced and creative lovers he had had in his bed in a long time, but there were also times when he felt just a bit empty when they finished their lovemaking. The trouble was, he didn’t know why he thought he was missing out on something. Rita definitely had everything needed for the perfect affair, as had Janis, Suzanne, Marie and a few others. In the next moment his love life was whisked out of his mind and he dropped off into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Jill wasn’t as lucky. Her mother called later that afternoon and demanded to know just how serious Jill’s condition was. The older woman was afraid that Greg, “who is such a sweet boy,” had kept something from her when she had talked to him earlier. It took Jill twenty minutes to assure the distraught woman that there were no complications from her surgery and no, she wasn’t lying about her condition. Yes, she’d make sure Greg kept Louisa informed on Jill’s progress. Louisa mentioned letting Lora, Jill’s sister, know about the surgery, but Jill talked her out of it. She was positive that her man-hungry sister was uninterested in her well-being.
Jill smiled weakly at the nurse who came in to leave a tray of small bowls containing her dinner.
“This is so exciting.” Jill’s tone of voice indicated otherwise as she gazed at broth, gelatin, lemon sherbet, juice and hot tea. “A lousy way to lose weight.”
“Ha! As if you needed to lose any,” Gloria, her nurse, teased her.
“When do I get some solid food?”
Gloria smiled that bland smile all nurses seemed to use when a patient asked them a pertinent question. “When the doctor says so.”
“Then hopefully Dr. Simmons will take pity on me soon.” She yawned. “I probably haven’t slept as much since I was a baby.”
“It’s good for you to sleep. It helps the healing process,” she assured Jill. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jill muttered, deciding to tackle her sherbet first since it was beginning to melt.
She ate her dinner watching the late-afternoon soap operas, something she had never had the time to do before. Jill became so engrossed in one particular program that she was afraid she was hooked and would now want to watch it every day! She doubted Greg would appreciate her taking a half-hour off each afternoon to watch television.
After Gloria took away Jill’s tray, she helped Jill with her trip to the bathroom, showing her how to raise the head of the bed and roll her legs over the side to aid her in getting out of bed. As the two women talked, they were unaware of Greg standing in the hallway.
With Gloria’s arm around her shoulders, Jill gingerly stood, only to have her legs almost give out.
“Augh!” Jill breathed, closing her eyes against the fire climbing up her legs. She sat back down abruptly, not seeing Greg’s expression of alarm and movement toward her. She was too busy fighting the agony in her legs to notice anyone nearby. She turned to Gloria, who stood by patiently. “Look, I don’t really need to go just this minute. If you have anything to do, I can wait. No problem.” She smiled ruefully, seeing the brief smile in Gloria’s eyes. “Okay, I get the message. Let’s try it again.” She gritted her teeth against the hot needles piercing her leg muscles as she slowly made her way to the bathroom and later back to her bed. “When did the bathroom get moved so far away?” she panted, as Gloria finally settled the covers over her.
“Don’t worry, it will get easier each time,” the nurse assured her.
“Sure, if my legs don’t fall off first.”
Greg waited in the hallway until Jill was settled before entering the room.
“I see you’ve lost some of your apparatus,” he greeted her. “You’ll be happy to know that I brought you some nightgowns and a robe,” he told her, taking the articles of clothing out of the suitcase and hanging them up.
“Greg!” Jill’s eyes widened as she watched one peach-colored-lace confection spill from his hands. “There is no way I can wear that here.”
He shrugged, a broad grin on his face. “I wouldn’t object.”
“The occupants of the cardiac care unit sure would.” She couldn’t help laughing over his mock leer.
“Then I guess you don’t want this one either.” He pulled out something pink and very sheer.
By now Jill’s eyes were as large as dinner plates. “Put it away, Greg,” she ordered. “Better yet, throw it away.”
“I found this at the very back of your drawer,” he commented a little too innocently. “You sure don’t take very good care of your things, Jill. Look how crumpled this is.”
“I knew I should have thrown that out,” she said through gritted teeth, looking at the not-so-appropriate birthday gift from one of her friends. “Will you put it away before someone comes in?” She had already decided she’d kill him after she felt better.
Instead he held the sheer scrap of fabric up to the light. “These shoulder straps don’t look right,” he remarked. “Is that why you don’t wear it?”
Jill closed her eyes, wishing she worked with a little old lady who wouldn’t have dreamed of digging out something so indecent.
“Those aren’t armholes, Greg.” Each word was coldly punctuated.
Greg turned the gown around and studied the next-to-nothing front with more than polite interest. “Amazing,” he murmured. “One of your boyfriends had very strange taste.” He carefully folded the tiny gown and put it back in the suitcase, which was incongruous considering he had originally stuffed her clothes into the case without regard to wrinkles. “I guess you�
��d prefer wearing this gown, then.”
Jill laughed, then groaned at the reaction from her strained muscles as Greg pulled out a long flannel gown that was as prim as the other gown had been improper. “Obviously you had trouble making up your mind.”
He hung up the rest of her gowns and placed an emerald green velour robe at the foot of the bed. Her bag of toiletries went into the bathroom cabinet.
“I brought your tablet and some magazines, so youâll have plenty of reading material.â He placed those on the table near her bed. “And someone to keep you company.” He placed a large, honey-colored teddy bear next to her.
“Oh, Greg, I love him!” Jill squealed, reaching for the bear. “He’s adorable. Thank you.” She beamed, hugging the furry bear. “Your flowers came this morning, after you left. Thank you for those, too.”
Greg glanced toward the ornate floral arrangement sitting on the counter where a small sink and cabinets were situated.
He smiled. “Just a few more to add to your collection.” Unthinking, he brushed a loose curl from her cheek. For a moment the tawny strands clung to his fingers as if they were alive, and he stood there staring at the hair that resembled fine silk against the pillow. He had some brief, wild thoughts about his writing partner as he looked into her deep blue eyes and down to the minute birthmark near the left-hand corner of her lower Hp. Milliseconds passed as he wondered how she would taste. He stood there, unaware he resembled someone in a deep trance.
“Greg?” Jill looked worried by his unearthly defection. She snapped her fingers in front of his face to bring him back. “Come in, Greg. So help me, come back or I’ll buy you a year’s supply of Hairy Harry cereal!” This was her best threat, since they both had tried the honey-flavored breakfast food and decided pancakes, bacon and sausage were more in their league.