Your Desire Page 11

  “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?”
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br />   “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.

  “You’re lucky, Frank. Mike Beam is on duty tonight and he’s the best trauma doctor in the county.”

  “Thanks, Allison.” A tall, slender man in his mid-fifties strode into the curtained cubicle, carrying a medical chart he read as he walked.

  She flashed the doctor a welcoming smile. “Hi, Mike. This is Frank Hughes. His car crashed in my front pasture and he hasn’t been able to see since then.”

  “All right, Mr. Hughes, let’s take a look.”

  Allison removed her hand from Frank’s then stepped back from the table.

  “You’re not leaving are you?” he asked.

  “I’ll stay if you want me to.”

  “Yes.” The word was a command, but there was a note of relief beneath it.

  Mike removed the brace then peered into Frank’s eyes. With the surety of a skilled healer, he checked Frank’s head, neck and shoulders carefully for any si
gns of injury or pain. The grimace she’d seen in the pasture when Frank ran his hand through his hair, marked his face again when Mike touched the back of his head and neck. Fortunately, there were no cuts or abrasions.

  “I’ve looked at the X-rays and didn’t see anything broken. I’d like to do an MRI, then we’ll know more,” Mike said, noting the orders on the chart. “Right now I’ll take a chance and say the diagnosis is contusion and blindness caused by trauma. I’d bet that when you had your accident, your head went forward and snapped back against the headrest, causing swelling of the brain in the area dealing with sight. That’s back here.” He lightly touched the back of Frank’s head. “If we don’t see anything else in the MRI we’ll go with that. And I’ll ask Walt Neeley and Dick Matthews to take a look, too.”

  “Who’re they?” With the doctor, Frank’s voice was once again firm, controlling, taking no prisoners.

  “The staff ophthalmologist and neurologist. In these cases, once the swelling goes down, sight usually comes back.”

  “How long?”

  “Hard to say. Healing could take a few days or a few weeks.”

  “Weeks! I can’t be away from my business…”

  “Don’t get all excited. Tests first. I’ll send someone to take you down.” He started to exit then stopped, turning to Allison with a puzzled smile. “I thought you had a reunion to attend tonight? How did you end up at home so early?” He glanced at the chart. “This shows you were here before nine o’clock.”

  She gave a non-committal shrug. “I was there for a little while but didn’t feel like hanging around.” Mike and his wife were good friends and knew how little she socialized. As much as she sometimes wanted to go out for fun, she usually felt more at ease sharing her free time with the kids in the county’s literacy program or volunteering at the battered women’s shelter. They had lectured her frequently about the need for relaxing and taking more time for herself.

  “Ah.” There seemed to be a world behind that one word. Not even a word, more a sound. Then he quirked his brows, shrugged and gave a sigh of resignation that meant he knew he couldn’t change her. “Interesting dress.” Another world of hidden meaning.