Somewhere in His Arms (12 page)

             
Lucy had beaten a hasty retreat and began packing, too tired to deal with a man who wouldn’t let anyone in. It was too exhausting, and she had other things to worry about. She sighed wearily as she began cleaning the room for her replacement. Rudy hadn’t told her much about them, but she had highly recommended it not be a woman. For some reason, Alec just didn’t seem to get on well with members of the opposite sex.

             
She finished packing, showered, and went to bed trying not to think about Alec.

              Monday loomed with another vicious bout of morning sickness. Lucy barely made it in time. Hunched over the toilet, she decided the first thing she was going to when she got to L.A. was to see a doctor.

             
“Lucy!”
Alec’s voice thundered through the door, making her jump. “Are you all right?”

             
Shuddering with the last of the spasms, she called out, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

             
“Dammit! I thought I heard you puking!”

             
Lucy splashed cold water on her face and quickly put on jeans and a sweatshirt. She winced as she brushed the tangles out of her hair and put it up into a sloppy bun. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to face the music. “And good morning to you, too!” she greeted him with false cheer. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

             
She brushed past him and hurried to her room with Alec in tow. “Hell and damnation, woman!” he swore as he wheeled past her and blocked the door. “You’re testing my patience!”

             
“For God’s sake Alec,
get
out of my way!”

             
“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” he demanded angrily, his handsome face taut with barely concealed rage. “You’ve been sick every morning for the past two weeks!”

             
Lucy stood rooted to the floor. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said shakily.

             
His splendid chin raised in a challenge. “I think you do.”

             
“And what’s it to you?” she retorted. “It’s none of your damned business!”

             
“Like hell it’s not!” he nearly shouted, gripping the armrests so tightly that his knuckles showed white. “Might I remind you that
you
work for
me?
”

             
“Is that so?” Lucy was so angry she wanted to smack him. How dare he speak to her like she was some backwater servant? “Not anymore, I don’t!” she spat and watched his face soften in confusion.

             
“What’s
that
supposed to mean?”

             
Lucy didn’t have time to answer as the doorbell rang suddenly. “Would you excuse me?”

             
She quickly darted past him and hurried to the door. She flung it open in relief. Lucy had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. There, on the front porch stood six- foot- six of hulking black male and more than adequate to deal with a troublesome patient such as Alec.

             
He shot out a huge paw in greeting and said in smooth deep voice dripping with a bit of Creole. “Good morning, I’m Mr. Fontainebleau.”

             
Lucy took his hand, wincing a little as the fragile bones were squeezed gently. “How do you do?” she smiled and urged him inside. “Would you like anything, Mr. Fontainebleau?”

             
He dropped his duffle bag onto the floor with a loud
PLOP!
  “No, thank you,” he replied, grinning from ear to ear as he took in his surroundings. “Well, this is quaint!”

             
“It is, isn’t it?” Lucy laughed. “I’m so glad to see you!

             
He eyed her closely. “That bad, huh?”

             
She smiled ruefully. “It could be better.”

             
He nodded, commiserating. “I hear you.” His black eyes inspected the tidy living room and spotless kitchen. “You cleaned!” he accused with a toothy smile. “Thanks!”

             
“You’re welcome!” she laughed and turned to find Alec watching them in bemused curiosity.

             
“Lucy...?”

             
She took a deep breath and rushed the introductions. “Alec, this is Mr. Fontainebleau. Mr. Fontainebleau, this is Alec Barrington.” She backed away slightly as the two men sized each other up. “Your new... patient,” she added breathlessly as Alec’s startled gaze met hers and she fled like a coward to get her suitcase.

             
“How do you do?” she heard Mr. Fontainebleau’s gruff voice saying.

             
Lucy gathered her small suitcase and overnight bag and with one last look at the room, walked out and pulled Mr. Fontainebleau aside and handed him a list of instructions. “Everything’s written down for you. If you have any problems his doctor’s number is on the fridge.”

             
He eyed the missive and gave her a piercing look. “You didn’t give him a bath?”

             
She winced. “He wouldn’t let me touch him,” she whispered, closing her eyes in agony. “He practically threatened to flay me alive.”

             
“He did, did he?” Mr. Fontainebleau said softly, looking at his new patient with renewed interest. “What excuse did he give?”

             
Lucy shook her head. “He said he was in Afghanistan.”

             
“Honey, they all have,” he said sadly. “You think that’s all there is to it?”

             
“I don’t know,” she sighed loudly, checking her watch. “I better leave if I want to beat traffic.”

             
Mr. Fontainebleau nodded and reached for her suitcase. “Oh, you don’t have to--”

             
“Let me,” he said, and walked her out. “Tell me everything.”

             
Alec sat in mounting horror as the huge man spoke with Lucy. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was leaving. And he didn’t blame her one bit. He hadn’t meant to push her away but that’s exactly what he’d done. She’d been nothing but sweet, gentle, and utterly beguiling. And what did he do? Lash out in his customary fashion just as they were getting close.                

             
He’d frightened her no doubt. He hadn’t meant to but he’d felt such shame. He knew she’d taken the laptop and seen everything. How much she knew, he didn’t know. But it was enough for him to destroy whatever chance he might have had with her.

             
Alec raced out to her in blind panic. “Lucy!” he shouted, and stopped short at the porch. There was no ramp. “Lucy!” he shouted again to no avail. He stared sadly as she turned and gave him a wave before getting into her battered little car and driving out of his life. He hung his head in abject misery.

             
“There, now,” Mr. Fontainebleau soothed as he wheeled him back into the house. “You’ll see her again.”

             
“I don’t think so,” Alec muttered miserably. “I really blew it.”

             
“We’ve all been there.”

             
“No,” Alec sighed tiredly as his new nurse wheeled him back to his room. “Not like this.”

             
Mr. Fontainebleau assessed his new patient and made a quick diagnosis. “You’ve really got it bad haven’t you?”

             
Alec frowned in confusion. “I--I beg your pardon?”

             
“Nothing!” Mr. Fontainebleau laughed. “Now, how about that bath?”

             
“B-Bath...?” Alec stammered in alarm. “What bath?” he repeated, wheeling himself backward as the hulking menace continued to laugh at him. “You’re not
touching
me!”

             
Mr. Fontainebleau crossed his arms over his mountainous chest and said sternly, “Oh, yes I am!”

             
Alec shrank back in his seat and had no choice but to allow himself to be bathed like a helpless child. It was times like these when he wished he’d broken more than just his leg. As Fontainebleau dried his hair, he could only hope that Lucy could find it in her heart to forgive him.

Chapter Nine

Lucy tossed her bags onto the floor and promptly collapsed into bed. The long winding haul down the coast and subsequent traffic had sapped whatever strength she’d had left. She buried her face in the pillow and fell fast into a numbing sleep.

             
But soon she was being rudely yanked out of dreamland by a hand tugging on her shoulder. “What?” she groaned, still half asleep. “Leave me alone!”

             
“Lucy!” came Rudy’s unmistakable baritone and sounding like a father trying to wake his daughter up on a school day. “Wake up!”

             
“No!”

             
“You’ve got some explaining to do!” he insisted as he tugged on her sweatshirt.

             
She tore the pillow from her head in exasperation and came face to face with an enraged Rudy. “What you want me to do, Ricky? Leave?”

             
“No,” he replied calmly, his shrewd gray eyes belying his disappointment. “What happened?”

             
“Oh God!” she groaned in frustration. “Can’t I have five minutes to myself?”

             
“I don’t think so, kiddo.”

             
All Lucy really wanted was some peace and quiet. She was tired of everyone leeching from her and she’d had enough. “He went ape shit on me, okay?” she practically screamed and buried her face into the trusty pillow. Her stomach was beginning to rear its ugly head, and she was brutally reminded of the fact that she didn’t have breakfast.

             
“He what---!” Rudy’s incredulous reply nearly made her break out into hysterics.

             
She threw the pillow across the room and sat up to face a shocked Rudy. “He went ape shit!” she said slowly so he could understand this simple fact. “
Comprende?
” Then she rose as calmly as she could and made a mad dash to the bathroom.

             
Rudy hurried behind her and stood in the doorway as she discarded the remnants of her dignity into the toilet. He wet a washcloth and knelt down, wiping her pale face. “Will you tell me what’s going on?” he pleaded fearfully, not knowing what to do for her. Having no children of his own he wasn't prepared for this. He sorely needed Tia to be here, but she was off visiting her brother in Puerto Vallarta and wouldn’t be back until next week.
“Tell me!”

             
Lucy couldn’t look at him she was so ashamed. “I didn’t eat breakfast,” she said shakily and took the washcloth. “You know me and hypoglycemia!”

             
He shook his head with a ragged sigh. “No, I
don’t
know and since when are you hypoglycemic anyway?”

             
Lucy reached up and flushed the toilet. “Since now,” she sighed and put the lid down and sat trying not to scream,
“I’m Pregnant!”
at the top of her lungs. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks,” she told him instead, trying to calm herself as she stared at the Spanish tile, and wondered wildly when Rudy had those installed.             

             
“Lulu,” he said quietly.

             
“Hmm....?”

             
“You’d better get back to bed.”

             
Nodding sleepily, she allowed him to walk her back. She tugged off her sneakers and curled up sighing as the fluffy cloud of the feather bed soothed her aching body.               Rudy covered her with the duvet and placed the washcloth on her forehead. “I’ll bring you something to eat, later.”

             
“That sounds good,” she sighed.

             
“Soup and a sandwich be all right?”

             
“Heavenly,” she murmured and drifted off to sleep.

             
Rudy closed the door gently and tore off downstairs in a glorious wrath. He poured himself a stiff drink and tried not to indulge the murderous rage he felt at the moment. For the first time in his life, he finally understood what drove men to cold-blooded murder.