His Golden Heart (3 page)

Chandra straddled him at the same time working a couple of buttons open. Beau, despite the discomfort of having her on top of him, obliged her by taking a bare breast into his mouth. Chandra’s skirt settled around her hips. Beau heaved a sigh. He’d given in to temptation and couldn’t finish what he started. Didn’t even want to try. Why embarrass himself?

“My parents will be here any minute,” Beau said, “Wouldn’t do for them to walk in and see us like this.” He kissed her soundly.

Reluctantly Chandra tugged down her skirt and pouted. “Screw your parents. Why can’t we make love like we used to? It’s been over three months. If this continues much longer I’ll shrivel up and die.”

All of Beau’s pent-up fury came to a head. He’d cut back on the painkillers, and so far the horrible temper tantrums and ugly mood swings had lessened. But Chandra’s sniveling set him off.

“Look, I’m not keeping you bound to me,” he snapped. “I’ve offered you your freedom numerous times. If sex is more important to you than my getting well, then let’s call our relationship off until you get back from Milan. I won’t ask you what you did over there, if you promise not to ask me what I did here. Deal?”

Chandra raised her long neck. Her eyelashes swept her cheeks. The tears flowed freely. Crocodile tears. Still, he hated that he’d made her cry. Any man would be crazy to let her go.

“I’m sorry, Beau-Beau,” she said, looking up, brown eyes brimming. “I’m just so horny.”

“And I’m giving you the opportunity to resolve that issue. You have three weeks to do as you want. If at the end of that time you decide you still love me and want to make it work, we’ll talk about it.” With the back of his hand, he wiped the tears away. “Go to Milan. Have fun. Send me a present.”

“I’m not happy about this,” Chandra sniveled. “Next you’ll be asking me for the ring.”

Her ring, platinum setting and all, had cost him a bundle. “Wearing it on your right hand might not be a bad idea until we get this thing resolved,” Beau suggested.

“You bastard.”

Just like that, her mood shifted again. Beau barely dodged the pillow she threw at him. The quick movement made his ribs ache. He’d like to believe Chandra’s reasons for sticking with him had to do with loyalty and love. But he wasn’t so sure of that. If he was truly honest about why he was still involved with her, he would be forced to admit she was right. He was a bastard and maybe he was using her for arm candy. Having a fiancée as good-looking as Chandra helped to validate what was left of his existence and made him feel alive.

Yet a nuzzle here, a nip there, and lots of stroking didn’t cut it with a woman as highly sexed as Chandra. Never mind that even those few meager attempts had caused him agony. He knew he would have to do something about Chandra, and soon. Marry her or let her go. Right now marrying her didn’t hold much appeal. In the meantime, he would try doing things Shayna DaCosta’s way but that didn’t mean he had to be charming. Three weeks should give him enough time to know if he would ever walk again.

There was a soft tapping on his door. Beau scowled. His agent had said he’d stop by. Usually that meant he’d heard from another company wanting to get out of their endorsement contract. He couldn’t deal with more bad news.

“Go away,” Beau shouted.

“We wouldn’t think of doing that,” his mother’s voice called.

Chandra scooted off the bed, but not before showing him her pubes. “See what you’re missing?”

Beau sighed. She buttoned her top buttons and straightened her skirt. His mother, Victoria, had that effect on her, turned her into an immediate lady. Beau hid a smile. His first since he’d been brought in by ambulance to Denver Rehabilitation Center.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,” Chandra greeted. She’d become the picture of decorum, even turning to smile at his parents as they entered.

Arms open wide, she moved forward to kiss them. Victoria took a step back, skillfully evading her. No love lost between the two, still Chandra had always bent over backward to make a good impression with his parents. Beau didn’t know why. She made little effort to be gracious to anyone, unless she benefitted in some way. Beau had often thought it might have something to do with the Andersons’ social status. They knew everyone there was to know and were frequently featured in the
Denver Times
.

Victoria didn’t need to work but she dabbled in high end real estate, making huge commissions. Ed, one of the city’s more prominent criminal attorneys, had earned a name winning some tough high-profile cases. While most of their money had been inherited, they’d made another small fortune through wise investments.

Victoria now flashed Chandra a tight smile. “How are you, honey?” She stood safely out of reach.

Ed, the more susceptible to Chandra’s charms, embraced her in a hug. “How’s my daughter-in-law to be?”

Chandra sniffed. Her eyes brimmed over. “Beau’s trying to dump me.”

“Beau?” His father shot him a questioning look. “What’s wrong with you, son?”

Victoria simply shook a full head of blond hair out of her eyes and secured it back with one of her headbands. “You’re still wearing Beau’s ring,” she said pointedly.

“That she is,” Beau confirmed, omitting that soon it would be on her right hand. He would have to do some serious thinking while Chandra was gone.

An awkward silence descended. Beau used that time to reflect on how charmed his life had been ever since the Andersons had rescued him from that awful foster home, one of many he’d lived in. They’d adopted him at the ripe old age of ten, no easy feat for a white family with two kids of their own. The system being what it was, kids were usually placed with parents of similar race. But the Andersons had argued relentlessly that they had the desire and wherewithal to adopt a child, and didn’t care whether that child was pink, white, or green. Luckily they had the contacts and money to make Beau happen.

He’d been one angry little boy when they’d first gotten him. He’d used his fists to settle most fights, and had a tendency to run away. As his scrapes became legendary, the Andersons kept getting summoned to the private school where he was enrolled. Finally they took the advice of his gym teacher and signed Beau up for skiing lessons. All that misdirected rage finally found an outlet. Beau, natural athlete that he was, mastered the sport and the rest was history.

“Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,” Chandra said, bringing him firmly back to earth. “Beau wants to put our engagement on hold until I get back from Milan.”

Victoria’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “You’re going to Milan and leaving Beau in the state that he’s in? No wonder he wants to…”

Chandra bristled, a first for her in his mother’s presence. “Beau doesn’t seem to have a problem with me going.” Another slew of tears threatened to ruin her perfect makeup job.

“A little separation might not be a bad idea,” Victoria said, her mood lightening considerably. His mother seemed happier than when she’d first arrived.

“It might be good for you both,” Ed said, picking up on his wife’s cue.

Although Chandra’s look was murderous, she held her tongue. She was not a stupid woman.

Victoria began to talk nonstop. “Kelly and Jason send their regards, Beau. They’re both coming home to see you soon.”

Beau grunted. “That would be nice.”

“Nice, nothing. They’re your brother and sister. They care about you.”

Kelly, his older sister, had married a Japanese businessman and relocated to San Francisco. Jason, the perennial bachelor, was a successful investment banker who’d made Manhattan his home. Both had managed a visit occasionally, and were now overdue.

“I’ve got to go, Beau-Beau,” Chandra piped up, twirling her fingers at him. She leaned over to plant a big wet one on his lips. “Love you.” The diamond twinkled on the finger of her left hand.

Chandra plunged her tongue into his mouth but not before Beau noticed his mother’s twinge of pain. He nibbled gently, and then put her firmly away from him.

“I really will miss you, Beau-Beau,” Chandra said, staring at him as though he was the one. The only one in her life.

“Me too,” he said begrudgingly.

His mother looked as if she had heartburn, and his father’s glasses had fogged up. Shell-shocked was the only way to describe the look on the older man’s face. Beau guessed they had gotten an eyeful of Chandra’s bare bottom and more. The lecture would come later from his mother. He couldn’t wait.

Chapter Three

Shayna glanced at the wall clock. Time ticked slowly by. Very slowly. Beau Hill was her next patient. She could hardly wait. She’d tried to liven up the vomit-green walls of the place with motivational posters. She’d placed potted plants in strategic positions, and added colorful cushions to the few pieces of furniture there were. Her goal had been to create the illusion of an upscale spa, but nothing could hide the ugliness of functional parallel bars, weights, and pulleys. Thank God for those lovely window walls.

Shayna had rolled the blinds high, letting in the awesome outdoor scenery. Green at their base, the mountains remained snowcapped even in spring. That was Colorado for you.

“Good job, Gail,” Shayna called, as Gail Mahoney, aided by a walker, slowly crossed the floor. The old lady was doing well but needed lots of stroking. Shayna continued to put Gail through her routine, observing her slow but steady pace. It was rewarding watching a patient progress from standing on her own, to taking her first tentative steps, unsteady and painful as those steps might be. Gail had never forgotten that precious moment and neither had Shayna.

Shayna’s mind returned to Beau Hill. Beau would win no awards for congeniality. Prickly as the athlete was, he had piqued her interest. Call it her love of a good challenge, or call it a complete understanding of what he was going through. She knew his abrasive personality was a shield to hide the fear deep inside that he would never walk again, much less ski. An athlete as active as Beau was bound to be devastated by this new sedentary life.

Eight years ago Shayna had found herself in a similar position, faced with a brutal reality. Doctors had told her that she would never walk again. She’d been determined to prove them wrong and read everything she could on the subject of holistic healing. In the process she’d stumbled across a book, titled
Turning Hurts Into Halos.
That book had changed her life. While she’d never again compete as a professional gymnast, she could walk, and she could walk without even the faintest trace of a limp.

“Your hour’s up,” Shayna announced, as a huffing, puffing Gail Mahoney continued to take painful steps back to her.

“Whew,” Gail said, sinking tiredly into her wheelchair. “So how did I do today?”

“Terrific. Wonderful. Better than wonderful.” Shayna kissed the older woman’s cheek. “We’ll have you out of here in no time. Just keep doing the exercises I taught you. Keeping pushing yourself.”

Gail beamed at her. “Did I tell you my grandson wants to meet you?”

“Hundreds of times.” They’d turned it into their little joke. “Why would some twenty-one-year-old stud want to meet an old bag like me?”

Gail harrumphed. “Old bag nothing. You’re young, beautiful, and intelligent.”

“Did I hear you say you were old?” Mary Jane Coppola called from the doorway. She’d come to deliver Beau. She arched penciled-in eyebrows.

Shayna turned to acknowledge the new arrivals. “Hello, Mary Jane. Beau. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The wheelchair’s brake clicked into place as Mary Jane parked Beau. “Are we too early?”

“No. Right on time.”

Shayna proceeded to wrap things up with Gail. The senior citizen’s attention was completely riveted on the new arrival. “You’re Beau Hill,” she gushed, eyes widening at the unexpected bonus. “Yes, you are. You’re the skier. Denver’s darling, a one-time gold medal hopeful. There was something fishy about your accident if you ask me.”

Beau took his time raising his head. His ego had just been trampled on. His gray gaze rested on the old lady. For one fleeting moment his hurt was palpable, and then the mask was in place again.

Shayna knew what he must feel like. It wasn’t easy accepting the fact that you were a has-been. She wondered what Gail meant about something being fishy about Beau’s fall. She made a mental note to go to the library and read up on the event. Call it her insatiable curiosity.

Gail continued. “I heard you’d been admitted. News travels fast in this facility and the nurses like to talk. They said you were good looking, but, young man, you need a shave.”

Shayna waited for the explosion but Beau just continued to stare at the old lady. Not the least bit intimidated, Gail stared back. She was off and running.

“I saw a replay of your accident on TV. The newscaster said something about you falling out of your skis, that’s why you took that nasty tumble. Don’t worry, you’ll walk again. You’re resilient. Look at your dad; he’s worked to keep our streets safe from crime. He’s a tough attorney, but a fair one. That kid who beat up that woman should be tried as an adult. Hopefully your dad can make that happen.”

Beau just grunted.

“Young man, you disagree?” Gail waggled a finger at him.

“I wouldn’t be in this predicament if it hadn’t been for some hoodlum. The man yanked my purse off my arm and knocked me to the ground, breaking my hip.” She fumbled in her new purse, removing a notepad. “Would you mind autographing this? It’s for my grandson.”