The Billionaire Next Door (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Collection) (4 page)

In that instant the man on the bed sucked in
his breath.  When Solie glanced at him his previously hooded eyes were now wide
as he stared at the needle flashing under the stark white light of the
fluorescent bulbs overhead.  As she moved toward him he almost seemed to shrink
back in the bed.

“Where are you going with that?”  His voice
was gruff but he didn’t look at her.  His eyes, as if mesmerized, never left
the needle in her hand.  It was the first sign of weakness she’d seen in this
man since the day they’d met.  He was genuinely scared.

Trypanophobia.  The man had needle phobia,
that much was obvious.  No matter how big and bad and bold he’d thought
himself, she was the one who was now in control.  She almost smiled. But no,
she would not be callous.  It was her job to help him.  Reassuring him and
getting him to relax was part of that job.

“I need to hook you up to the IV,” she said
as she pulled the stand closer.  She pointed to the bag of saline hanging from
the hook.  “We have to make sure you’re properly hydrated.  I also need you
hooked up so we can administer your medication easily.”  As she spoke she was
ripping a sterile cotton swab from its packet.  “Now if you just give me your
arm I’m going to clean the skin just inside your inner elbow.  I see a lovely
vein there.”

It was when she saw his face turn pale that
Solie knew it was probably the worst thing she could have said.  A lovely
vein?  The man must be having images of blood shooting out all over the place. 
She gave him what she hoped was a comforting smile as she drew closer.  “Can
you make a fist for me?”

When his brows fell and his lips tightened
in a hard line she knew she was in for a fight.

***

Ransom could not believe the situation he
was in.  Being clobbered by a wrench was nothing compared to this.  By some
cruel twist of fate he’d fallen into the evil clutches of the wicked witch of
the west, his neighbor, of all people.  And now she was out to get him with the
worst weapon she could have chosen.  A damn needle.

Where needles were concerned he was a wimp. 
He’d be the first to admit it.  But Christ, did he need this right now, just
when he was playing tough guy, right when he was trying to impress his hot
neighbor?

And he’d gotten off to a good start, too. 
He could tell by the way she dropped her eyes whenever he caught her staring,
by the soft blush in her cheeks when he let his gaze linger a little too long. 
She’d seemed confused that he wasn’t disoriented and weak and he’d loved that.

But now the tables were turned and she’d see
firsthand that he wasn’t who she’d thought he was.  With that needle she had
the power and she could take him down.

“Nurse…” he glanced at the name tag
glittering on her chest, “…Soledad.  Is this really necessary?  Can’t you just
bring me a jug of water and let me take some pills or something?”  Little did
she know it but he’d do practically anything to get out of this.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kent.  This is standard
hospital procedure.  We need our patients fully prepared in case of any
emergency.  With the IV in your arm we can administer drugs immediately in case
of anything sudden, like a seizure.  We wouldn’t want to be searching for a
vein at a time like that, would we?”

There was that word again…vein.  For some
reason it made him think of his blood draining out of his body.  And for some
reason he felt like Nurse Soledad F., as her name tag said, was enjoying this. 
Eyes narrowed, he gave her a suspicious glance.  “And what if I refuse?”

“You won’t.”  Her eyes full of challenge,
she gave him a crooked grin.  “Or else I’ll have to call you a baby.”

That did it.  There was no way he was going
to let this slip of a girl have anything over him.  She might be the nurse from
hell ready to torture him witless and he might be shaking in his boots even as
she stared down at him but she didn’t need to know that.  He stretched his arm
out.  “You’ll never have any reason,” he said through gritted teeth, “to call
me baby.”

She gave him a self-satisfied smile.  “We’ll
see.”  She came close then leaned over and used the medicated pad to swab a
spot on his arm.  “Now take a deep breath,” she said, almost gently.  “You’ll
feel a tiny prick then it will be over in a second.”

Ransom knew when to drop the tough guy act. 
He drew in a deep breath according to her instructions and as much as he wished
he didn’t have to, he closed his eyes and turned his face away.  It was either
that or fall into a dead faint.  It had happened before and he wasn’t about to
let it happen again.  Definitely not in front of Miss Soledad F.

The feel of the needle piercing his skin
made him bite down on his lower lip but, like she’d said, it was over pretty
quick.  By the time she’d pressed tape on it and stepped away he could actually
peep at the contraption attached to his arm.  He drew in another deep breath
and let it out slowly.  It was only then that he looked up at her.

Soledad had a broad smile on her face. 
“Well done, Mr. Kent.  You did better than I expected.”

Now what the hell did that mean?  Not
wanting to hear the answer to that one, Ransom didn’t bother to vocalize his
thoughts.

“Now just relax,” she continued, still
smiling like she wasn’t the same person who’d been his bulldog neighbor for the
past couple of months.  “I’ll soon be back to give you your enema.”

What the…
 
Ransom’s head jerked up and his mouth fell open.  “What enema?”

But even as the words left his throat she was
laughing and pulling the curtains closed and then she was gone.

Ransom let his head fall back into the
pillows and his nostrils flared as his breathing quickened.  The wicked witch
was back and she was out to have his hide for lunch. 

He was at her mercy and there wasn’t a damn
thing he could do about it.

CHAPTER
FOUR

   “An enema.  She got me good,
bro.”  Ransom was chuckling as he watched his brother pull up a chair by his
hospital bed.  “But I’ll find a way to get her back.  You can count on that.”

Ridge laughed but as he sat down he was shaking his
head.  “She sounds like a sharp one.  I’m not so sure you’ll get the better of
a girl like her.  You were never the sharpest knife in the drawer and now with
that bump on your head…”

“Hey, watch it, bud,” Ransom growled.  “I’m still your
big brother and I can whup your butt any time.”  His threat was nullified by
the big grin on his face.

“Boys, behave yourselves.”  Mother Kent looked from one
to the other then tilted her head toward the third man in the hospital room. 
“Why can’t you both be more like Ryder?  Look how calm and collected he is.  So
well behaved.”

“Mama’s boy,” Ridge teased, giving his brother a
sardonic grin.

Ryder didn’t even spare him a glance.  After years of
living in a house full of rambunctious brothers he was more than used to the
jabs.  “So when are they going to let you out of your cell?” he asked, ignoring
Ridge who looked like he was trying to come up with some other way to annoy
him.

Ransom shrugged, trying to look relaxed.  “Maybe by
tomorrow.  They said they wanted to keep me a couple of days for observation.” 
Then, of their own volition his fingers started tapping the cotton-covered
surface of the bed.

Ridge gave a snort.  “Yeah, and you want to get out of
here like yesterday.”

Ransom grimaced.  “That obvious, huh?”

“You betcha.”

That made Maggie Kent smile.  “You’re always the
impatient one, Ransom, always the first to get up and go.  But this time,” she
said with a shake of her head, “it’s time to take it slow.  You’ve suffered a
serious injury and the worst thing you could do is rush things.  If the doctors
say you need to stay here and rest then that’s what you need to do.”  By the
time the last words came out her tone had turned firm.  Mama Kent had gone into
serious mothering mode.

As Ransom looked over at his mother, her brow softly
wrinkled as she regarded him with eyes full of concern, his heart swelled with
an emotion he knew was love.  No matter how old he grew he would never stop
loving Magdalena Kent, the woman who had opened her heart and her home to four
homeless waifs.

He’d been the first to be adopted by the Kents.  They
told him he’d joined them when he’d been only two years old, the child of two
unfortunate souls who died in a motor vehicle accident.  Two years later Ridge
joined him then came Ryder and finally, when Ransom was all of eight years old,
there came Rafe.

At the thought of his youngest brother Ransom’s lips
tightened.  Rafe.  The wayward sheep in the family.  The one who’d always been
– and probably would always be – a major source of stress for both their
parents.

He almost groaned as he opened his mouth to ask the
question.  He could almost guess the answer before the words even left his
mouth.  Still, he had to ask.  “So what’s Rafe up to now? Nowhere near the good
old U.S. of A, I can bet.”

“No quite,” Ridge said, his tone harsh.  “But close. 
The kid takes it as his duty to stay as far from home as he possibly can. 
Always in a different country.  Would live on a different planet if he could.”

“Even though he knows how much it makes Mom worry.”  Ryder’s
voice was cool but the look on his face was anything but.  Whatever Rafe’s
excuse was this time, it didn’t matter.  Regardless of how easygoing Ryder
usually was, Rafe had managed to piss him off.

“It’s all right, boys.  Rafe has to live his own life
the way he sees fit.”  As always, Maggie was quick to defend her youngest.  The
wisps of graying brown hair falling into her face, she looked earnestly at
Ransom then at Ryder then at Ridge.  She hated it when they fought over Rafe. 
Sliding forward in her chair she reached over to pat Ransom’s hand.  “Don’t
worry about Rafe right now.  You just focus on getting well.”

Ridge gave a grunt.  "Kind of hard to do when my
kid brother’s acting like a jerk.”  Then he frowned.  “How’s all of this
affecting Dad?”

At his question Maggie bit her lip and looked down at
her hand still resting on top of his.  A range of emotions flitted across her
face but when she lifted her eyes to look at him again, on her lips she was
wearing a brave smile.  “Your Dad’s a trooper,” she said, her voice slightly
hoarse.  “You know how hard it’s been on him since the stroke but I’ve never
heard him complain.  Not once.”

Ryder left his post by the window and walked over to lay
a hand on Maggie’s shoulder.  “You’re his backbone, Mom.  You’re the one who
keeps him going.  You’re always there…for all of us.”

Maggie shook her head but even as she did she was
reaching up to cover his hand with hers.  “You’re my boys,” she said, the telltale
glint in her eyes giving away the depth of her emotions, “my family.  I’m the
luckiest woman on earth.”  

Now it was Ridge’s turn to shake his head.  “No, we’re
the lucky ones.  Lucky to be blessed with you and Dad in our lives.  Thanks,
Mom.”

Ransom felt the same way but he couldn’t help cocking an
eyebrow in surprise.  They weren’t normally an expressive family and when it
came to things emotional they tended to keep those to themselves.  They all
loved one another, that was without doubt, but in their home actions always
spoke way louder than words.

He cleared his throat.  Things were getting too
emotional for his comfort.  Time to change the subject.  “As soon as I’m back
on my feet I’m coming out to the farm to see Dad.”  He grimaced.  “And then I’m
going to deal with that runt and get him to come home.”

Maggie’s smile widened.  It was obvious that she was
pleased with the news of his plan to visit.  “Bill will love that.”  Then she
chuckled.  “But you have to stop calling your brother a runt.  He’s taller than
you are.  Remember, he’s not the twelve-year-old who used to want to hang with
his big brother who could drive.  He’s all of twenty-eight.”  She paused then
her eyes took on a wistful look.  “My, how time flies.  Even the baby’s all
grown up.” 

“And speaking of ‘the baby’,” Ransom turned his eyes on
Ridge, “where the heck is he now?  Is anyone going to tell me?”

Ridge gave him an amused grin.  “You won’t believe me if
I tell you.”

“Just spill it.”  Ransom was in no mood to play guessing
games with his brother.  “Where’d he run off to this time?  A Buddhist temple
in the Himalayas?”

“Worse,” Ridge said with a smirk.  “An oil rig in
Alaska.”

“What the…an oil rig?” Ransom stared back at Ridge,
incredulous.  No wonder their mother was worried sick.  Living and working on
an oil rig was no simple matter.  In fact, if you had a yen for dangerous
living that was a damn good choice.  If a fire broke out on one of those rigs
you either stayed on board and got roasted alive or you jumped a couple of
hundred feet down into freezing, shark-infested water.  Talk about ‘damned if
you do, damned if you don’t’.

Ransom’s brows fell.  “That kid needs some sense knocked
into him.  What the hell was he thinking?  It’s not like he needs to be doing stuff
like this.  I invested in his online business.  He's got wads of money to spare.”