Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love) (7 page)

The corner of his mouth twitched as he glanced at his hand. He shrugged and set the implied weapon on the counter, raising his hands in feigned surrender. "There. I'm unarmed. You feel safer now?"

"Not at all," she said dryly.

"Touché."

She dropped her regard to the tile floor. Why did he look so good right then? Why were her insides all jumpy and bubbly?

Lack of sleep. That had to be it.

"Well," she said. "If I'm not needed at the hospital until later, maybe I'll go back and get some more shut-eye."

"Okay." He turned back to the counter and lifted the knife. "I'll wake you up in a few hours if you like."

She stood there, her feet glued to the floor, wondering why he was being so good about this. After all, he'd been nothing but a pain in the rear since she met him. The suspicion that he was up to something just wouldn't let her leave the room. "Why are you being so nice?"

"Nice? I didn't realize I was being nice," he answered without looking at her. "It made sense. You need sleep or you could get sick, and I can't afford that now. The office had a slot open for later. Of course, there is one problem," he added, finally turning to face her.

His beaming smile sent dread up to the roots of her hair and down to her toes. "What problem might that be?"

"You won't make your flight tonight."

"Damn!" She searched the room for a clock. "Is it too late to make the ten o'clock appointment? I can be ready in five minutes--"

He peered at his watch, then shrugged. "Too late. It's twenty after now."

"Damn, damn, damn," she said in a soft voice as she turned her back to him, hoping he wouldn't hear her.

"If you had told me it was going to be a problem, I wouldn't--"

"It's not a problem," she interrupted. "Please, wake me up an hour before we have to leave so I can shower." She glanced around the kitchen. Stainless steel professional stove, natural stone tiles on the floor and counters, natural wood cabinets. Top of the line.

This guy was loaded. Despite the comparatively small size of his place, it spoke of quiet opulence. Expensive antiques, rugs and appliances filled the condo from front to back. "By the way, nice kitchen. Where's the cook?"

"I'm the cook," he answered from behind her. "And if you're up before lunch, I've got quite a meal planned."

Intrigued, but not wanting him to know it, she said, "Well, why don't you wake me up then? I enjoy a well-made peanut butter and jelly."

His laugh followed her through the dining room and foyer, and as she climbed the stairs, his singing, that croaking, froggish voice bellowed after her again. She closed the door, hoping it would muffle the noise, and dropped into bed.

What seemed like minutes later, a nudge on her shoulder startled her.

"It's noon. You still want to have some lunch?" Rainer's deep voice caressed her nerves.

Something smelled good, hanging in the room, tickling her nose. Garlic. Her mouth watered. "Mmmm. What is that?"

"Lunch."

She forced her eyes open, and found him standing over her with the strangest expression on his face. Taken aback, she asked, "What's wrong?"

He cleared his throat, and his gaze shot from her, landing somewhere on the other side of the room. "Nothing. I was just...noticing how much you look like your sister, that's all."

Her mood sank at the mention of her sister. "Oh, yeah. We are identical, at least when we let ourselves be. But, if you haven't noticed, we're very different personality-wise."

He nodded.

"Heidi is the good one," she added before she'd thought better of it. The second the words flew from her mouth, though, she regretted them. What in God's name had made her admit that to him?

It had to be those eyes of his. Deep sapphire blue, the color of the sea on a sunny summer day. They searched her face, her soul. Immediately, she wished she were back in Sequoia Valley.

Sequoia Valley! She'd almost forgotten. Sitting up, she said, "I need to use your phone."

"Sure. Why don't you come downstairs, and you can make your call while I dish out the fettuccine."

"Fettuccine? Wow, you are a cook."

"Wait until you taste it," he said smoothly. His voice was so deep and seductive. She'd admired it since their first brief phone conversation.

And then the realization that it had only been two days, the shortest forty-eight hours of her life, since they'd had that first uncomfortable conversation. So much had changed since then. Her sister was sick...She felt the urge to become deep and philosophical, but she pushed it aside. Today was not the day for philosophizing. Today was a day for action. Heidi needed her.

Rehearsing her conversation with Andrew, she followed Rainer down the stairs. She'd keep it short--give him no opportunity to ask questions.

After she took her seat at the table, Rainer handed her a cordless then returned to the kitchen. She dialed and Andrew answered the phone, "Paws and Claws, how may I help you?"

"Andrew? It's Hailey. How are things going?" she asked, as she fiddled with her spoon.

"Everything's fine here, boss. How are things in L.A.?"

"Everything's great, the conference is intense. One more day."

"Really?" he asked, with a tell-tale lift to his voice. He wasn't good at hiding his feelings, even on the phone. "So, what conference was that again?"

Ignoring his question, she added, "There are some great contacts here, and I'm hoping to find someone who's willing to help me with licensing and permits while I'm here."

"Sounds like a plan." He still didn't sound convinced.

"Gotta go, there's another lecture starting in a few minutes, and I don’t want to miss it. See you tomorrow," she said, eyeing Rainer when he stepped into the room carrying two plates. She punched the talk button, shutting Andrew off mid-sentence.

Rainer set her plate down, then carried his to the opposite side of the table. He sat and studied her before lifting his fork. "Everything okay?"

She donned a life-couldn't-be-better smile and leaned down to revel in the luscious smell of the pasta. "Everything's great. Thank God for assistant managers! This smells amazing. Alfredo is my favorite. Oh, and is that shrimp too? How did you--" she stopped herself. Despite their many differences, she and Heidi shared identical tastes in food.

She imagined what her sister might be eating right now. Jello? Ice chips? Her appetite died.

"Sorry, I assumed you liked the same things Heidi does. If you don't I could make something else..." he said, his voice heavy with regret and sadness.

She looked up and their gazes met, and as her eyes searched his, she found the first glimmer of friendship shining in their depth. Friendship forged from shared sorrow. "It's okay, really. I love shrimp. Thinking about Heidi in the hospital, I'm just not hungry. Maybe we should get the tests over with."

"I understand." He stood, but his body wasn't as erect as it had been earlier, and, as he carried their plates to the sink, his footsteps became a heavy shuffle. He stopped, standing with his back to her in the kitchen door. "By the way, when I rescheduled I couldn't get another doctor, so I hope you don't mind--" He turned to face her, and the first thing she noticed was his scarlet cheeks. "I'm going to perform your physical."

No! Her body heated instantly as shock and embarrassment shot through her veins, traveling to every capillary and miniscule blood vessel in her body. She bit back a sarcastic retort, certain he'd done this on purpose--as some sort of demented revenge.

She quickly reminded herself he was a professional, a doctor for God's sake, and her sister's friend. Ignoring her pounding heart at the image of her lying on a hospital bed, with only a paper gown hiding her nakedness from him, she said, "That's fine. Did you think that would bother me? Anything for Heidi."

A soft knock sounded at the examination room door, and Hailey flinched with anticipation, tugging at the back of the hospital gown to make sure her backside wasn't exposed. Unfortunately, no matter how she adjusted the gown, it wouldn't stay closed. A chill bit at her spine. Why had she agreed to this?

"Come in," she called weakly, not prepared for what was coming but not wanting Rainer to know. If he sensed how uncomfortable she was, how stupid and immature she was being, he might delay the appointment again, and she'd be forced to endure another night in Detroit.

Having him listen to her heart and pound on her chest couldn't be all that bad. After all, it wasn't a gyno exam. She wouldn't have to remove the gown, or reveal any more skin than she'd show on the beach.

So why did she feel so weird about this?

The paper under her bottom crinkled as she scooted back on the bed. Sitting across the narrow width, she pressed her back against the frigid wall.

"Hello, Hailey," Rainer said when he stepped into the room.

Goosebumps erupted on her arms, and unwanted warmth settled over her face. "Hello, Dr. Hartmann." She eyed him speculatively, while pretending she was completely at ease. She forced a grin for good measure.

"I want to go over the procedure with you and take some medical history, and then we'll get on with the exam." He sounded professional, and whereas earlier his distant, detached manner had been insulting, she found a welcoming comfort in it now. She was like every other patient, she reminded herself. No more special, no different.

She nodded. "I'm all ears."

He lifted the clipboard with her chart and asked a battery of questions, the normal things: about drug use, whether she'd ever had any of a hundred different diseases he named in random order, and others covering countless other useless subjects. She supplied the token "No's" on command.

And then he paused, as though his next question would determine everything. She shifted positions, and the obnoxious paper spoke of her discomfort. She flinched.

"Have you ever been pregnant?"

She flinched again. "What does that have to do with anything?" Her heart, which had tried to settle into a semi-normal rhythm began to hammer her ribs again. When he didn't answer right away, she repeated her question.

"If you've been pregnant it can affect how your sister's body accepts your marrow." His gaze was searching, imploring, and his demeanor had softened.

She couldn't lie. It might make the difference between her sister living or dying. But she hadn't talked about it--hadn't told anyone. Ironic, now she would tell him, a man she barely knew and didn't even like very much. He wasn't even her doctor. He wasn't her friend. He wasn't her husband, the only person she'd planned to tell.

Her gaze dropped to her hands. She toyed with her ring. "Yes, I have."

Silence.

She swallowed. The sound of her throat working and the pounding of her heart were the only things she heard. She glanced up, and her gaze met his. She searched his face for a reaction. Would he be judgmental?

His expression softened for a split second, then returned to polite professionalism. "All set." He cleared his throat. "Now, after the blood tests are complete, you'll return home to wait for your sister to finish a course of extremely aggressive chemo. Once she starts, you can't change your mind about donating. You understand that, don't you?"

She nodded. He was talking mighty fast all of a sudden.

He continued, as though she hadn't answered, "Heidi won't have any means for producing blood cells and will die if she doesn't get the transplant."

"I understand, Rainer." Still, the question hung in her mind. The one he still hadn't answered completely. Could she donate, even though she had been pregnant?

"We will need you to return here for the procedure in ten days. You'll be placed under general anesthesia and taken to the operating room, and the stem cells will be removed from your hipbone."

She cringed at that image. "Ouch! But what about--"

"You won't feel a thing, at least not until you wake up," he interrupted with a reassuring smile, then continued, still not addressing the other subject. "You might feel groggy afterward, and a little achy, but you'll be good as new in no time."

She sat forward, her feet dangling over the end of the bed, and she stared down at the brilliant white floor. Blinding white, hospital white. Whiter than her socks white. "What about the other problem? Can I still donate?" she asked in a small voice, refusing to look up.

"I don't know. I'm going to leave it to Heidi's oncologist to determine whether or not he wants to take the chance. If everything else comes out okay, and I don't see why it wouldn't, I don't expect him to reject you as a donor. Without this transplant, your sister stands virtually no chance of beating the leukemia. At least with your marrow, her chances are improved." He stopped talking and silence filled the sterile, white-walled room. His deep voice cut through the heaviness, "I'll be back in a moment."

She fell back, until her back hit the wall, then laid lengthwise on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She hated going to the doctor, even when she was sick as a dog and ready to do anything for relief. Now, with this man, with this situation, she was ready to jump out of her skin.