Dancer in the Shadows (12 page)

Unbidden, a vision of Felicia in Sean's arms flashed through her mind. "Doctor, where did you find him?" She licked her dry lips.

"At his office, of course." He appeared surprised by her question.

In the small waiting room, Sean was looking morosely out the window and smoking a cigarette. His face was gray under its tan, making him appear older.

"Mr. Hunter?" Dr. Taylor stepped into the room as Sean quickly turned around.

"Is she all right?" he asked hoarsely, crushing his cigarette into an ashtray overflowing with the remains of numerous others.

"She has a concussion that will give her a bad headache and quite a few bruises," the doctor replied. "I would like to keep her here overnight for observation, just as a precaution. She did take a long time to regain consciousness."

"May I see her?" Sean's voice was anxious.

"As soon as the nurses get her settled." Dr. Taylor motioned for Sean to be seated. "How's young Michael doing? Going on all cylinders, as usual?"

Sean's tense features relaxed. "He never seems to stop." He smiled, lighting another cigarette. "I didn't know kids could have so much energy."

"I've seen him since he was three months old. Valerie's been working hard for him ever since. She deserves a rest, but it's too bad it has to be this way."

At the doctor's words, Sean's hands shook and he was forced to stub out his cigarette.

Dr. Taylor got to his feet. "I'm sure you can go in to see her now. She may be a little drowsy from the medication I gave her to ease the pain." He smiled warmly. "She's a stubborn little minx, but I can't imagine her any other way."

Valerie was slightly drowsy when the door slowly opened to reveal Sean, carrying yellow roses in a vase. He set the vase on the table next to the bed before sitting uneasily in the nearby chair. His dark eyes took in the bruises on her face and shoulders and the large bruise on her forehead. "You've given me a scary time, angel," he said huskily, his voice betraying his emotions. "It's been a long day."

"I'm sorry that I took you away from work," Valerie muttered, her voice thickened from the medication.

Sean's breath hissed, a sure sign of frustration. "You mean more to me than my work does," he stated flatly.

"Is Michael all right?" she asked quickly. "You won't let him get too frightened, will you?"

"I called Sara and asked her to pick him up at school," he replied. "All he knows is that you have to stay in the hospital overnight. No gory details." Sean, hesitated before adding, "Sara mentioned that she had offered to take him to school today. I owe you an apology."

"You don't owe me anything," Valerie said dully, turning her face away from him to hide the tears. Why had he been with Felicia? And why couldn't she have the courage to confront him with it?

"Val, please don't turn away from me." His soft voice was pleading as he leaned forward, taking one of her hands in his. "Talk to me. Don't be this way."

"I'd like to go to sleep now," she whispered, fighting the urge to face him, to draw his arms around her for warmth and comfort.

The room was silent save for the soft closing of the door, leaving her alone with her misery. Only then did she allow the tears to fall onto the pillow unchecked until she fell into a drug-induced sleep.

The next morning, Valerie was picking at her breakfast when Dr. Taylor entered the room. "Ah, good, some color in that pale face." He patted her cheek. "Now, if you'll be a good girl and stay in bed for a week to ten days, I'll let you go home. Otherwise, you'll have your vacation here."

"I can't stay in bed for that long," she protested, struggling to sit up.

"Then no discharge," he said firmly.

"But Michael—we've never been apart." She stopped seeing a familiar look of determination on the doctor's face. "I feel fine; I don't see why I need to stay in bed."

"Precautionary." He held her wrist, checking her pulse. "You have a visitor outside. But only for five minutes," he added warningly.

Valerie ran her fingers through her sleep-tousled hair. Her eyes widened as Craig stepped inside after Dr. Taylor left the room.

"Hello, Val." He smiled faintly. "I'm glad to see you aren't badly hurt."

"Thank you, Craig."

He came forward, gripping her hands. "Val, Sean isn't worth it," he persisted. "Come with me. I know you care for me. You have to."

"Craig, I can't." She tried to withdraw her hands.

"I know you care for me. It was obvious at the dance." His blue eyes darkened with desire.

"At the dance?" Valerie was confused by his words.

"On the terrace, when you kissed me," Craig said impatiently.

The horror of that evening came back, causing her to recoil. "Oh, no!" she moaned, remembering the accusations she had thrown at Sean.

"Oh, Val." He lifted her hands to his lips.

She snatched them away, her eyes dark with revulsion. "Please go away, Craig," she pleaded, feeling the nausea rise.

"But Val—"

"My wife asked you to leave, Saunders." A voice of steel invaded the room.

Craig opened his mouth as if to protest, but one look at Sean's cold face caused him to think twice. "I guess you won't be coming back to work, then, will you?" He looked at Valerie's downcast head before he turned and left the room. She didn't look up when a small leather case was deposited on the bed.

"I brought you a change of clothes." Sean's voice was impersonal, as if speaking merely to a friend. "I'll be outside taking care of your discharge."

She didn't look up until he left the room and a nurse entered. "Thought you might need some help getting dressed," she said cheerfully. "You're going to be stiff for a while, so you'll need to take it easy."

Sean had thoughtfully chosen a cotton caftan that zipped in the front and was comfortable against her tender skin. She winced as her stiff muscles refused to respond when she tried to stand up. She was grateful to find a hairbrush and face cleanser also in the case. She felt better as she was wheeled outside. "Hospital rules, dear," the nurse explained to her.

Sean stood by the passenger's door of the large silver car and his hands were gentle as he helped her in. Valerie dourly noticed the nurse's face light up when he smiled his thanks at her before walking around the car to the driver's side.

Valerie rested her head against the back of the seat, closing her eyes. "Dr. Taylor gave me a prescription for some pain pills in case your head begins to bother you," Sean told her as he started the car. "He also told me that you have to stay in bed, and that's where you're going as soon as we get home."

Valerie wanted to protest, but she already felt tired and silently admitted that a bed would feel very good to her. "I want to give you my apology," she said slowly. "I didn't know until today that it was Craig that night at the dance. I just want to say I'm sorry."

"I saw you and Saunders on the terrace that night." Sean's lips twisted wryly. "At the time I thought it was a passionate love scene, but I realized differently later." He inserted a cassette tape into the tape deck, letting the music put an end to any conversation.

By the time they reached the house, Valerie's head was throbbing. As Sean stopped the car in front of the house, Sara came running out. "Oh, you poor dear," she clucked, as Sean opened the passenger's door, lifting a protesting Valerie effortlessly in his arms.

"I can walk," she informed him, feeling self-conscious with her face so close to his, his after-shave drifting into her consciousness.

"Dr. Taylor wants you to stay off your feet as much as possible," he replied, walking into the house. He said over his shoulder, "Sara, could you please bring her something cold to drink?"

"Of course." The housekeeper disappeared toward the kitchen.

Sean carried Valerie to her room, where the bedcovers were turned down invitingly and a light blue nightgown was lying across the covers. He gently set her down on the bed, saying, "Unfortunately, there's an emergency at the office, so I have to go in for an hour or so. I'm sure you'll want to rest for a while. Michael's at preschool today, so I'll pick him up on my way home."

"Thank you, Sean." She smiled faintly, surprised by his unexpected kindness.

His fingers lightly stroked the soft skin near a dark bruise on her chin. "I'd offer to help you undress, but I'm sure you'll only try to convince me that you can do it all yourself," he said drily. "I'll see you this afternoon." He walked toward the bedroom door.

"Sean, how badly is my car wrecked?" she asked, unwilling to see him leave, especially with thoughts of Felicia at the back of her mind.

He hesitated before replying. "It was totaled, Val," he said softly. "There's nothing left."

"The first car I ever owned." She sighed, feeling as if she had lost a dear friend. "I guess I should have had the brakes fixed a long time ago."

"You think it was your brakes?" His tone was curious.

"Yes, I think they may have locked." She shrugged her shoulders as she reached down to slip off her sandals.

A sharply indrawn breath was his only reply before he left the room. Valerie winced as she straightened her arms to unzip the caftan, slipping it off her shoulders. Once the nightgown was over her head, she felt exhausted and lay against the pillows, breathing deeply.

"And that's where you belong," Sara said briskly, entering the room with a tray. "I brought you tea and a snack. Hospital food can take away anyone's appetite."

"I was there for only one night, Sara." Valerie smiled, warming under the older woman's attention.

"One night is long enough." She set the tray on a small table by the bed. "And I doubt you'll find custard like mine in any hospital. Sean said doctor's orders are for you to stay in bed for about ten days, and I'm to enforce that rule when he isn't here. If you want anything, you give me a call. I'm baking lemon tarts for Michael, but I can hear you. You do have a few things here to occupy your time, though."

Valerie noticed the books on the bedside table, books she had been meaning to read for a long time. "Thank you, Sara."

"Thank Sean. He's the one who got them for you." She walked out of the room. "And be sure to thank him properly," she called back over her shoulder.

Valerie dutifully ate the custard and sipped a cup of hot tea before her eyelids began to droop and she drifted off to sleep. When she awoke, the afternoon sun was setting and a small figure was perched at the foot of her bed.

"Oh, Mommy!" Michael's coloring book fell to the floor as he scrambled across the bed and hugged her tightly around the neck. "Your face is all colored." A sticky finger carefully touched the bruise on her forehead.

"They'll go away," she assured him. "Have you been a good boy?"

"Daddy played dominoes with me, and Sara gave me a bath." His nose wrinkled with distaste.

Valerie's laughter sounded light and carefree as she hugged her son. The sound died in her throat as she looked up to see Sean's lean figure leaning lazily against the doorjamb. He was disturbingly attractive in dark gray slacks and a pale gray silk shirt, unbuttoned halfway to his waist, showing the bronze muscled hardness of his chest.

"I-I'm afraid now that you know how to play dominoes, Michael will never leave you alone," Valerie said breathlessly. "It's his favorite game. He can play it for hours and not tire of it."

"All in a day's work for a father." He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes settling on his son. "Sara said to tell you your dinner is ready. I think you better wash your hands first, though."

"I washed 'em this morning," Michael protested.

"Well, wash them again, just in case."

"Aw," he muttered, climbing down from the bed.

"Michael believes that soap is a boy's worst enemy," Valerie said, feeling self-conscious in the filmy gown that accented her small breasts and smooth skin.

"I did, too, once upon a time." He grinned. "I thought you might prefer eating dinner in the den for a change. I can set up a tray for you next to the easy chair. The television's in there, too, and I have some paperwork to catch up on."

"I don't need to be entertained, Sean, like a small child." She sounded sullen. "I can take care of myself."

"The doctor also said that using the Jacuzzi would help keep your muscles from stiffening up," he went on, ignoring her childish behavior. "I can take you out there after dinner, if you'd like."

"Walking will help just as much," she said stubbornly.

Expelling an angry breath, Sean walked into the room with a panther's lithe grace. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands lightly gripping her shoulders. "Val,

the real reason that you're confined to bed is because of all your bruises, especially those on your legs. For all the doctors know, you could have a blood clot," he said grimly. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"That if I do, it could . . . shift?" she asked through stiff lips, her face pale from the impact of his words. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"

Sean's hands lightly caressed her shoulders. He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead before standing up. Walking over to the closet, he rummaged through the interior, pulling out a dark blue robe and throwing it on the bed. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Valerie quickly brushed her tangled hair and slipped on her robe before Sean returned. She felt uneasy as he picked her up and carried her to the main part of the house.

A small table was set up next to a black leather lounging chair in the den. A straight-backed chair sat opposite. The delicious aroma of baked ham teased Valerie's nostrils. After Sean had carefully set her down in the chair, he walked to the other side of the table and sat down. She looked up, surprised. "Aren't you going out tonight?"

"As I told you, I have quite a bit of paperwork to catch up on," he replied smoothly, deftly cutting her ham into small pieces and then picking up his wine glass. She looked pointedly at her glass of iced tea, then over to his wine. "I should think you'd realize that with all your medication, wine could be a very dangerous beverage for you," he told her logically.