The Billionaire Next Door (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Collection) (3 page)

When he pulled into the parking lot at the site he
hadn’t even shut off the engine when his construction foreman, a brawny middle-aged
man wearing the standard fluorescent orange vest and yellow hard hat ran toward
his truck.  “We’ve got a problem,” he blurted out before he’d even come to a
halt.

That was an immediate attention grabber.  The last thing
you wanted to hear on a construction site was that there was a problem.  There
was too much that could go wrong.  He threw the door open and got out.  “What’s
going on?”

Gordon shook his head.  “The same problem.  We thought
we’d resolved it but like a friggin’ pendulum it keeps coming back.”

“Plumbing again?”

That got him a nod from the foreman.  “That damn fool of
a plumbing contractor we’ve got isn’t worth a sack of dirt.  Doesn’t know his
head from his ass, if you ask me.”

Ransom could have reminded him that they’d hired the man
on his recommendation but he kept his mouth shut.  No sense in going there, not
when it wouldn’t resolve a thing.  He would much rather focus on resolving the
issue than on casting blame.  “The leak is still in the underground parking
garage?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Gordon said, falling into step beside Ransom
who’d already set off across the gravelly parking lot.  “He’s down there with
his crew right now.”

Ransom gave a grunt and kept on walking.  For many of
his other projects he’d relied on his team of managers to ensure that things
ran smoothly but for this one he’d decided to immerse himself fully.  Now he
was beginning to wonder if that had been such a good idea.  They were beginning
to rely on him a little bit too much.

When he got to the location it was to find Egan Stiles
tapping his fist against his chin, a look of confusion in his eyes.  Not good. 

As Ransom approached he looked up then nodded.  “Glad
you’re here, Mr. Kent.  Good to have someone I can discuss this with.  Someone
who won’t go flying off the handle.”  He directed a pointed look toward Gordon
who had come in just behind his boss.

Ransom ignored his jibe.  “Where’s the problem this
time?  Same place?”

Stiles shook his head.  “It’s shifted to the north
passageway.  I have my crew on it but just can’t figure out why this would crop
up again.  That’s what’s beating me.”  He was back to tapping his fist against
his chin.

“Take me to it.”

At Ransom’s words a look of surprise flashed across the
contractor’s face but, just as swiftly, he tightened his lips and turned. 
“Follow me, please.”  His voice was businesslike, almost brusque, as if it had
dawned on him that his show of confusion could have been construed as a sign of
weakness.

For his sake, Ransom hoped it was a minor glitch because
if the problem couldn’t be resolved within the next twenty-four hours then he
would have his foreman give him his walking papers.  In this type of business
where production schedules were critical he had no time for incompetence.

   When they got to the north passage Stiles pointed to
a narrow tunnel.  “It’s along here.  The guys are busy down there so it doesn’t
make sense to bother them while-”  He broke off when Ransom strode past him,
bent his head and headed into the shadowy walkway.  “Hey, I didn’t mean for you
to go down there.  I’ll get the guys to come out and talk to you.”

Ransom ignored him.  He wanted no second party reports
on what was going on.  He needed to see what was up.  “It’s not safe.”  He
heard the yelled words but did not slow his pace.  He was going to see things
for himself.  That was the only way he would understand what the devil was
going on.

It was getting darker as he progressed but when he saw
lights at the end of the passage he knew he was near.  He sped up as he got
closer but he was almost upon the lights when he realized the men were nowhere
in sight.  What the blazes?

“Hey, anyone here?” he called out and that was when he
heard a muffled sound above his head.  He looked up and at that moment something
sounding big and heavy and metallic clanged its way down the chute.  Quick as a
flash Ransom ducked his head but just as he was about to swing away to safety
he felt a rush of wind and caught sight of a black mass flying toward him.

He glanced away just in time to avoid a full frontal
slam to his face but his luck ran out when the missile crashed into the side of
his head.

The last thing he felt was his head splitting open and
then he crumpled to the floor.

                                              CHAPTER
THREE           

 
“E.R.’s not my thing.  They know that.”  Solie was not a happy
camper as she strode purposefully down the hallway, a fellow nurse in tow.  “As
if I haven’t been under enough stress…”  She didn’t have to say more.  Her
colleague knew exactly what she meant.

   “Yeah, well, welcome to my world.”  Anita
shrugged as if this sort of thing happened to her every day.  “I’ve been
shifted around this hospital so much it’s like I’m a rolling stone.  As soon as
I get in the groove at one department, poof!  They wave the magic wand and I’m
off again.”

“But you know me, ‘Nita.  I hate change.”

Anita shook her head.  “True.  But it’s not
like we have a say in where they send us.”

“But my patients in palliative-"

“Come off it, Soledad.  They say they’re
short in E.R. so we just have to go.  It’s not what we want to do, it’s what
we’ve got to do.”  Anita clucked her tongue at Solie.

As they rounded the corner that led to E.R.
Solie sighed.  “I know, girl.  It’s not like I don’t.  I’m just letting off
steam, that’s all.”  She bit her lip.  “I’ve got a patient…I don’t want to be too
far away.  He…needs me near right now.”  She surprised herself when she felt
the sharp prick of a tear. 
Come on, Solie.  No breaking down on the job
.

Anita threw her a sympathetic look.  “He’s
getting close, is he?”

Solie nodded.  “Real close.  I want to be
there in case he calls for me.”

“No family?”

“His wife’s been here since yesterday but
she left half an hour ago.  Poor woman.  She’s exhausted.”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt when
they got to the triage desk.  Immediately, a frazzled looking nurse grabbed
Anita by the hand and pulled her over to a waiting chair.  “Cover for me,” she
said, her brows furrowed in a frown.  “I haven’t eaten all day and I have a
splitting headache.  I’ve got to go.”  She raised a hand to her forehead then
glanced over at Solie.  “Dr. Delgado needs you on the trauma team.  Get
yourself over there right now.”

The woman didn’t have to say another word. 
Solie swung around, pushed through the swinging doors behind Triage and hurried
to the trauma center.  Where lives were concerned, particularly in an emergency
department, there was not a minute to spare.

When she walked in three pairs of eyes swung
toward her.  The doctor gave her a curt nod.  “Nurse Felix.  Bed twelve,
concussion.  Check all vital signs and administer Percocet.  Intravenous. 
Medication in one liter of solution.  Go.”  Not sparing her more than a glance
the doctor dropped her eyes again to the patient lying on the stretcher, an
oxygen mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Yes, doctor.”  She was heading for bed
twelve before the doctor had even finished barking out her instructions.  She’d
worked in E.R. before and she knew that rapid action was critical.  She headed
down the passageway to bed twelve, threw back the pale blue curtain and stepped
forward.

What she saw made Solie freeze in her tracks. 
Dios!
  She knew the man lying in the bed.  Eyes closed, his breathing
shallow, there was a real vulnerability to him but there was no mistaking the
rugged jaw, the wide forehead and the furrowed brow of her neighbor. 

In that instant Solie’s heart pitched forward
and slammed into her ribs.  The shock made her suck in her breath, her palms
suddenly growing moist.  When she hurried to his side and stared down at his
pale face all she could think was, Oh God, make him be all right.  For some reason,
seeing him like this made her feel faint.  Why she was having this reaction,
only heaven knew, but there was no time to think about that now.

She grabbed his chart and skimmed it
quickly.  Ransom Kent.  Head injury on the job.  Construction site.  Hit on the
head by a wrench?  What the hell?  He could have been killed.  Involuntarily
Solie’s eyes flew to him again and that was when she saw that he was wide awake
and staring right at her.

For a split second he seemed confused, his
brows knitting as his dark eyes focused on her, then a spark of recognition
appeared and he blinked.  “What are you doing here?”  His voice was hoarse and
gravelly, little more than a whisper.  He didn’t wait for an answer.  His frown
deepening, he turned his head to glance around.  “Where am I?”

“Stay still.”  Quickly, Solie reached out to
lay a firm hand on his arm.  “You’ve suffered a concussion.  You need to lie
absolutely still right now.”

“Concussion?”  He frowned and raised a hand
to his forehead then he was looking around again, at his curtained-off
temporary hospital room, the medical equipment and then the machines to which
he’d been hooked up, totally ignoring her instruction to stay still.  “How…”  He
frowned again, as if trying hard to remember.

“Please, just relax,” she said gently, and
as she was talking she pulled the blood pressure machine close and began strapping
the thick blue band around his upper arm.  “You were rushed in from a
construction site,” she explained quickly.  “Head injury.  You were hit on the
head by a …wrench.”  She could hardly get the last word out. 

Her patient groaned.  “Oh, yeah.  I remember
now.  Something fell out of the chute and brained me.”  He gave a soft chuckle
then sank back into the pillows.  “A wrench, was it?”

Why was he even laughing?  “My God, you
could have been killed.”  The words flew out before she could stop them.  She
hadn’t meant to be unprofessional but she couldn’t help it.  Didn’t he realize
how close he’d come?

His soft laughter died away.  “I guess I
should be grateful for my hard hat.”

“It saved your life,” she said softly.  She
had no doubt that it had.

The fact that he was still alive told her
that he hadn’t taken a direct hit.   The wrench must have glanced off the side
of his hard hat.  Maybe he’d seen it coming and shifted just in time, she
didn’t know.  The only thing she knew was that he was here, he was conscious
and he was talking.  Thank the stars for that.

But this was no time to reflect on what had
almost happened.  It hadn’t, and that was all that mattered.  Now she had work
to do.  “Stay still,” she said, her tone extra firm as she tried to get a hold
of her emotions.  She was a nurse, dammit.  Where was all this emotion coming
from?  He was a patient just like any other.  “No movement while I check your
blood pressure.”

Instead of closing his eyes and lying back
like she thought he would, Mr. Neighbor gave her a smug look and curled his
lips into something that was more of a smirk than a smile.  “Are you okay?” he
asked, his eyes never leaving her.  In fact, if he hadn’t been lying in a
hospital bed Solie would almost say he was checking her out.  His eyes were
roaming up her body, over her scrubs and up to her face, making her feel like
she was wearing the slinkiest of outfits.  “You look…flustered.”  He chuckled
as he said the word, which pissed her off big time.  How dare he be so bold
when he was supposed to be weak and vulnerable?  Wasn’t he supposed to be
disoriented?

Just then the blood pressure machine beeped,
much to her relief.  Leaning over, she rested her hand on his arm to release
him from the band.  This time, though, instead of touching only the blue rubber
of the cuff her fingers slipped – or betrayed her, she wasn’t sure which – and
the next thing she knew she’d come in contact with solid, unyielding muscle so
firm and warm, throbbing with a strength that made a lie of his current state
of weakness.  How would it feel to have those arms around her?

Solie blinked and pulled her hand away. 
Jeez,
girl, get a hold of yourself.  This is your patient you’re lusting after.
 
“How are you feeling now?  Does your head hurt?”  She practically blurted the
words out in her haste to cover her momentary lapse.  She would just die if he
noticed she’d been staring.  No, not just staring, lusting after him…if she
should admit it to her wicked, wicked self.

“I’m good,” he said with a crooked smile. 
“What about you?”  He gave her a self-satisfied smile.

Solie felt the telltale warmth begin to rise
in her cheeks.  She tightened her lips in near frustration.  If she didn’t know
better she would almost say he knew exactly what she was feeling right then. 
But how could he?  The man had just suffered a serious head injury.  She was
surprised he wasn’t groggy and dazed.  Far from it, he looked like he was the
one in control of the situation, not her.  And she didn’t like it.  Not one
bit…

Solie turned away from her patient and reached
for her tray.  When she rolled it toward the bed and turned back to him she had
her supplies and she was ready to work.  The weakling of a woman,
uber-conscious of the sexy man lying in the bed, was gone.  Now she was Nurse
Felix again.  She picked up the syringe and ripped open the wrapper then
reached for the needle.