Your Desire (11 page)

Tossing the end of a wool shawl over one shoulder, she’d confidently walked to her car and driven to the landmark hotel in town where the evening’s activities were taking place.

The first hint something was wrong was the look on Mary’s face. The two friends hadn’t found time to speak earlier, so when she arrived Mary rushed to give her a hug. Then she’d stepped back and examined Allison.

“I love the way you’ve done your hair,” she’d finally said.

“Thanks.” Allison gave a hesitant smile, then twirled for Mary as she had for herself earlier that evening.
Swish, crinkle, swish
went the skirt. “What do you think? Isn’t the dress something?”

“Yesss, it is. Nice… I like the shawl very much.”

Allison’s smile disappeared. She took in the concerned look on Mary’s face.
Her
appearance was perfect. Long blond hair curled charmingly over her shoulders. The floor-length gown, white, scattered with sprigs of lavender-colored flowers, was a shirt-waist style with a short jacket to match. All of that, plus a petite frame and face with laughing blue eyes, made Mary the very picture of a young starlet from 1955, instead of the thirty-something widow and mother of two she actually was.

Even in her normal role, Mary was beautiful and graceful, the opposite of Allison. Despite Allison’s self-consciously unfavorable comparison to her friend, she and Mary had always been close.

“Oh dear, Mary. My outfit seemed just right when I got it. Do you really think it’s awful?” She held out her skirt and looked down, frowning.

“No, no, of course it’s not awful. Don’t pay any attention to me, Allison. The dress is fine. There’s just so much to it and the color is a little dark. Reminds me of autumn in
Scotland instead of spring in
Virginia
. Actually…” Mary took a longer look at the dress, frowning in her examination “—it reminds me of that autumn I spent in
Scotland after college, sampling Guinness at every pub I came to. This is the way a good many mornings looked to me.” Shaking her head at the memory, she took Allison’s hand. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry, really, the dress is fine. Come on. Let me show you the table and what I’d like you to do.”

That began the evening. Before long, Allison had endured enough long stares and quick embarrassed glances to last a lifetime. Although Mary had insisted that Allison sit at her table for dinner and drinks, when the nametags had been handed out and the hellos said, Allison slipped out and headed home.

Twenty minutes later she turned from the dark county road onto her long driveway. The headlights swept the fence and pastureland as she made the turn, catching something out of place in their beams. She stopped and backed up. A man was rising from where he’d been sitting in her pasture. Not far away, the bumper of a light-colored sports car had made a good sized dent in one of her oak trees.

“Good Lord!” She jumped out. “Mister! Mister, can you hear me? Are you all right?”

He faced her, looking dazed but uninjured, from what she could see. He made no attempt to move toward her. “Hello? I’ve had an accident.”

“Yes, I can see that.” When he still made no effort to move toward her, she got a flashlight from the glove box, heaved a sigh of resignation and gathered up the volume of skirt so she could climb the wooden fence, grateful for once that she was unable to wear heels. Then she cringed when she thought of how her beautiful velvet slippers would look by the time she trudged across the wet grass. They’d look like hell, and so would the bottom half of her dress.

“‘Like hell’ can only be an improvement on the dress,” she muttered.

Even with the flashlight, the headlights cast eerie shadows in front of her as she carefully picked her way across the wet, ankle high grass. Despite the dew-soaked hem, she sounded like an army of taffeta-clothed soldiers crossing the field. In the quiet, the scratchy, swishy noise of the stiff material rang through the night. Except for the sound of the car engine, her dress made the only noise, since the man had said nothing else

“Are you
hurt
?” she asked when she reached him.

A glance to the left showed a gaping hole in the fence that would have to be repaired very quickly. Lucky the sheep are in the lower pasture, she thought, then chastised herself for thinking about her sheep when something was clearly wrong with the man standing in front of her. The very
handsome
man, even with the sharp angles and dark shadows on his face cast by the unnatural lighting.

“Who are you?” he asked sharply.

His tone pierced her romantic examination of his face and raised her hackles. After the night she’d already had there was no way she felt like putting up with rudeness, even rudeness due to shock.

“I’m the owner of the fence you smashed through and the tree whose trunk you gouged. Now would you mind answering my question? I’m also a nurse. I want to know if I should call 911 for an ambulance or only call the police.”

He looked like he was considering her statement.

“Is your car drivable? It doesn’t look too bad, actually, from what I can see. Better than my tree.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t try.”

“Well, at least you didn’t back up through the huge hole you put in my fence and drive off without a leaving me a note or anything. I appreciate that.” She looked him over as well as she could. No blood that she could see. He was standing and didn’t show signs of being in pain, or dizzy. His color was pretty good. So what didn’t seem right?

“You don’t
look
hurt. Come on up to the house. I’ll get your insurance information and we can report this to the police.” She hesitated. “You haven’t been drinking, have you? Because things will go a lot worse for you if you have.”

“No, I haven’t been drinking.”

“Okay, good. Come on, then.” She turned and marched back toward the car.
Swish, crinkle, scratch, swish.

“Wait.”

She realized he wasn’t following when he called. “What?” she said, sounding only slightly less exasperated than she felt.

“I can’t follow you.” He roughly raked his hand through his hair and grimaced. Dropping his arm, he blew out a harsh breath. “I can’t see.”

CHAPTER TWO

She must have run back toward him. He didn’t know exactly what made that rustling sound, but he was happy for it. The sound meant a person was here, not whatever made the kinds of noises he’d been listening to for the past hour or more. And this person was someone who seemed to have a level head and didn’t panic easily, thank God, because inside he felt panicked enough for both of them.

Her hand grasped his arm. “You can’t see at all? Anything?”

He shook his head.

“Not even this?”

“No, I told you.” What was she doing, waving a red flag in front of his face? “Do you think if I could see I’d be sitting here on wet grass, freezing to death, waiting for a woman who can’t understand English well enough to know what I mean when I say I can’t see anything?”

Damn it! His voice, rising in volume with each word, clearly betrayed the terror he didn’t want known. It had been years since he’d allowed himself any kind of unchecked emotion. In fact, this display was so atypical he felt a thread of surprise twisting through the fear. The emotional reaction was only as unusual as the situation, however. He’d never been so totally out of control and helpless.

To her credit, the woman didn’t react to his voice or words. Not that he could tell anyway. She didn’t remove her hand from his arm and when she spoke her voice was firm and untainted by sarcasm or hurt feelings.

“Okay, I understand. I can’t examine you well enough out here. Can you walk if I lead you?”

“Yes.” His heart was pounding. He hated feeling weak. Hated appearing weak even more.

“Good.” She rustled from in front of him to his side and took his hand.

“Wait. Can you get something out of the car?” Hearing her quick exhalation indicating impatience, he added, “It’s my wallet.”

“Okay.”

“And my briefcase and cell phone,” he said in a rush.

“Anything else?” Her tone dripped honey. “I mean, I have a strong back if you’d like me to strap on your luggage.”

Fine. After all he’d been through, this is just what he needed. “Thank you, no. The things I listed would cause a great deal of trouble if something happened to the car. I really need them.” Whereas her words had been honeyed sarcasm, he knew his were unemotional and cold. He’d used the tone often enough in business to have it perfected.

“Okay. Wait here.” Without a word, she dropped his hand.
Swish, swish.
The sound moved away. “Where are they? I don’t see anything here.”

“The phone should be on the console between the front seats. The briefcase is in the trunk and my wallet is in the glove box. Oh, and my jacket is on the backseat.” He heard her talking. “What? I can’t hear you.”

“First you can’t see and now you can’t hear,” she grumbled as she swished up. “What I was saying wasn’t for your shell-like ears, believe me.” Firmly, she grabbed his wrist and extended his arm, turning his palm up to slap two objects in it. “Here’s your phone, which was under the seat, and your wallet.” She draped something over his arm. “Your jacket was jumbled up on the floor. How do I get into the trunk?”

“Oh, right.” He dug in his pocket and came up with keys. “Use the long one.” She snatched them out of his hand and crinkled away again.

A click indicated the trunk opened. “Ouch, damn it!” indicated a rapid approach to the proverbial end of the rope for the woman. She confirmed his theory when she returned after slamming the trunk lid harder than it had been slammed in the years he’d owned the car.

“That’s enough. We’re going to get you to the hospital now. No more fetch and carry, no more discussion. Unless,” she added, “you’d just like to sit out here the rest of the night.”

That was no question and he had no choice.

“Thank you. I appreciate your help. Did you hit your head on the trunk lid?” He let the concern he felt infuse his voice. This woman was helping him. Nastiness wasn’t called for, considering how much he needed her.

She’d taken his hand again and started walking haltingly, waiting for him with each step. Gingerly putting his foot out and patting the ground before stepping forward, it felt like each bit of progress took minutes.

“Yes.” She didn’t sound upset anymore.

She’d taken so long to answer, he had to remind himself what the response was for. So she
had
hit her head. “I’m sorry.” If her head was as lovely as her voice, he truly was sorry.

Talking would have taken his mind off of his situation. Walking, after all, was an associative action, not cognitive. He walked all the time without having to think about how. In fact, frequently he walked and carried on multiple, simultaneous conversations. No big deal.

This was different, though, and the knowledge that he couldn’t walk without almost total focus on his feet and where to place them brought back the fear he’d temporarily forgotten. The helplessness that accompanied the blindness threatened to engulf him if he didn’t concentrate on something. Fortunately, the “something” was taking tiny steps toward her car, which she’d left running. Engine noise had never sounded so good.

“It’s okay,” she finally answered. “I apologize for my language. I was more frustrated than hurt. Why were you sitting on the ground instead of in the car?”

At that moment, his foot struck a rock protruding from the ground and he stumbled. Only her steadying hold and unexpected strength kept him from falling to his knees.

“Steady.” She soothed him with her soft drawl. “We’re almost to the fence.” The rustle was less noticeable with their slow movement, but the sound still calmed him, almost as much as her voice and solid grip.

“After the accident I think I blacked out. When I opened my eyes, I thought I was just stunned when I couldn’t see. Then I thought I smelled gasoline and I heard a hissing from under the hood. I didn’t know if the car might catch fire or explode, so I got out and tried to move away from it.”

“Cars don’t normally explode after accidents. That’s just on TV and the movies.” She sounded as though she were lecturing a child.

“Easy for you to say. I know that, of course, but you weren’t there, blind and disoriented. I had no idea what was going on around me.” In his petulance he started to pull away from her, but she held him tightly.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your tender feelings. Your hands are freezing cold. I’d have thought you’d sit inside the car where it was dry and warmer. What if I hadn’t come home early? You could have been out there for hours.”

“Huh.” The grunt didn’t begin to express the distaste he felt for that thought, or the gratitude to the gods who had brought her home from wherever she’d been, ahead of time.

“If you haven’t been drinking, why’d you run through my fence?”

“Jesus, that fence again. You’d’ve thought I hit it on purpose.”

“Stop! Move to the left a little. Okay,” she said after they made the adjustment. “The ground was a little uneven there. Not too much farther now.”

He had to hand it to her. Now that they were actually in action, she was unflappable. He wished he didn’t feel like such a weakling. Then he wouldn’t sound like such a prick.

“A deer.”

“What?”

“A deer ran out in front of me.” He hesitated. “I might have been going a little too fast and it was getting dark.”

“I see.”

“I’ll pay for the fence.”

“Yes, you will.” There was no heat in her tone, she was simply making a statement. “There are thousands of deer out here. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt.” They didn’t slow down but he could sense her mentally stopping and evaluating him. “You
were
blinded in the accident, right? I mean, you weren’t driving around out here blind, were you?”

She sounded amused and he laughed in response. God, it felt wonderful to laugh at something.

“Good.” The satisfaction in her voice was a balm.

Well, hell. She’d
tried
to make him laugh, to let him know he was going to be okay and could loosen up.

Some of the tension drained from him. Unaccustomed as he was to feeling dependent, he knew without doubt this woman was someone he could trust with his fear. She wouldn’t judge him harshly for a moment of dependence.

“Okay, we’re at the fence. It’s wooden and two-railed.” She placing his hands on the top rail and released him. “Let me put the flashlight and briefcase down, then get on the other side, and then…”

A sound like crinkling plastic bags filled the night. A soft thud signaled her landing on the other side of the fence. Suddenly she stood directly in front of him, her breath hot on his neck in the cool night air, her hand brushing his temple so gently the touch might have been the wings of a moth. Lifting his hand to place over hers, he gave himself over to the sensation of tenderness. For just a minute he released concern, allowing himself to draw succor from her.

Even though he could see nothing with his eyes open, he closed them. As improbable as the event seemed, standing in an open pasture, blinded and half in shock, his cock rose at her touch. He didn’t fight his reaction to her, he welcomed it. This was a sign of normalcy in the otherwise fantastic events and emotions of the evening.

He hadn’t seen this woman, didn’t know the feel of her hard nipples crushed against his chest or the sound of her moan as her tight muscles gripped his cock and milked him with her orgasm, but for a moment he experienced the security and contentment he somehow knew he would find buried to the hilt in her wet heat. It was all he could do to keep from gasping with pleasure.

Her thumb stroked across his eyebrow. “I don’t even know your name.” Her voice was as soft as her touch.

He became harder yet, wanting this calm, dependable woman more than he had ever wanted anyone else. Only a second is what he took to consider what to tell her. His real name, not the one he used for business. “Frank. Frank Hughes. What about you?”

“Allison Hayes.”

He heard a sigh escape her. He’d only just formed the thought of pulling her to him for a kiss when she was all business again.

“Now, Frank, the first rail is about two feet from the ground. Step up then swing your right leg over. Without your sight you might feel a little disoriented, but I’m here to steady you.”

She was right. With her hands bracing his arm and side, and her encouraging noises in his ear, he easily made it over the fence. But even doing something so simple made him slightly dizzy. Plus, his head had begun to ache.

Wasting no more time, she bundled him into the car. They backed up and she took off, like the devil himself was chasing them.

* * * *

Within minutes of arriving at the trauma center, Frank was fitted with a neck brace by a brisk and efficient nurse. She exchanged a few words of greeting with Allison before firing triage questions regarding the nature of the accident and the condition in which Allison had found him. For his part, he gave terse, firm answers, showing no sign of the nervousness his grip transmitted since first taking Allison’s hand when they entered the building. She couldn’t help but admire his control.

Before he could articulate an argument, Allison forced her hand from his to help the nurse remove his shirt. He sputtered protests as they slipped a hospital gown over his shoulders. Allison tied it in the back while the nurse removed the rest of his clothing, amidst louder protests.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, Mr. Hughes, no need to worry.” Her voice was soothing, but she sent a thumbs up and a smile to Allison over his shoulder. “Let’s get you to radiology.” Settling him on the bed, she released the wheel brakes and pushed.

“Wait a minute!” Frank commanded.

The nurse slowed but didn’t stop.

“Allison, you’re coming with me.”

Briefly, she bristled at his presumptuousness. But one look at his white-knuckled fists lying on the sheet told her what she needed to do. “Yes, I’m right with you, Frank,” she replied in a low voice, and they set off through the labyrinth of hallways.

Allison sighed at the number of people waiting in the radiology area. Saturday nights, even in small towns, always produced business for hospitals. The fact that there was a line didn’t matter, however. Concern over his possible injuries was great enough that Frank was wheeled in ahead of everyone else.

“You’ll be fine,” Allison said, patting his shoulder. “I’ll wait here for you.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse gave him no chance, pushing him through the doors as he sputtered. Stifling a laugh, Allison found a chair and dropped into it. She wished she had someplace to prop her feet and relieve the pressure on her legs.

Across the room, a small boy stared at her, stubby fingers jammed in his mouth. She smiled and wiggled her fingers. He widened his eyes, opened his mouth and emitted a wail that made everyone wince. Great. Just what she needed. Thankfully, his mother picked him up, shooting a dirty look at Allison as she did.

Several minutes later, a different nurse emerged with Frank to return him to the emergency room. After locking the bed in place, she bustled about, murmuring words of comfort and encouragement. She tucked the sheet around him, then cursed under her breath when he sat and upset her efforts.

“Lie down, please, Mr. Hughes.”

“I don’t want to lie down,” he growled. His emotional control showed signs of failing.

Grasping his arms to push him back, she replied, “You
must
lie down.”

“No.” Like a stubborn boy, he set his lips. “I have phone calls to make. It’s uncomfortable talking on the phone when I’m prone. Go away.”

She let go of him and looked at Allison who shook her head as though to say she didn’t know how to handle him either.

“Allison?” No growl now, but he definitely didn’t sound happy.

“Yes, Frank.” She moved forward.

“I don’t want to lie down. Will you explain that to her, nurse to nurse?”

“Frank, please lie back. You’ll feel better if you do. I promise I won’t leave. Okay?”

Mumbling things she was sure she should be glad not to hear, he nonetheless lay back on the bed.

Allison looked at the nurse. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Thanks. He’s all yours.” She left, letting the curtain fall closed behind her.