Читать книгу My Baby, My Love - Dani Sinclair - Страница 7

Sydney woke to the scent of something elusive, something intriguing, something that wafted past the smell of flowers and antiseptic. In an effort to find the source, she forced open her eyes and tried to focus on the face that hovered above her.

“Sydney? That’s it, open your eyes. Can you hear me?”

The rumbly voice was comforting. She’d heard that voice in her dreams. A voice that promised safety and security from the nightmares.

Memory flooded her with violent images.

Sydney opened her mouth, a scream building from her soul. The man shook his head. His fingers pressed gently against her raw, chapped lips.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “You’re safe now. You don’t have to scream anymore.”

The tone, rather than the words, released the scream as a long shuddering sigh. Sydney trembled. Pain raced up her arm. Other pain quickly followed. She tried to lift her hand. It wouldn’t move. Something white covered it completely. Sydney fought against the incipient panic rising in her chest.

She couldn’t move!

Large hands rested against her shoulders, gently but effectively holding her in place.

“Look at me, Sydney.”

She had no choice but to do as he commanded. Still, she couldn’t stop the quaking that gripped her body.

He nodded. “That’s better. If you scream, the cop outside your door will throw me out of here.”

What was he talking about? The hands moved away from her shoulders. Ironically, she wanted that reassuring contact back.

“Don’t fade out on me, Sydney. Take a couple of deep breaths.”

She licked at her chapped lips as she stared into his ruggedly handsome face. He wore a military dress uniform, she realized. Puzzling out why this should be significant was too hard for her muzzy brain to contemplate. It was enough that he was here. She relaxed, staring up at him, drawn to him in some indefinable way.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked.

Sydney nodded, bewildered, and suddenly, terribly tired. The last thing she remembered—

“No! Don’t try to remember. Look at me, okay?”

Looking at him was the easiest thing she’d ever been asked to do. Just his presence made her feel safe and protected. He lifted a cup with a straw poking from the top. Carefully, he brought it to her lips in silent offering.

“Just a small sip,” he cautioned.

The ice water slid down her grateful throat, soothing the strained, parched dryness. Her whole body felt strained. She hurt. Everywhere.

“Listen to me.”

Dark somber eyes bored into her.

“Visiting hours don’t start for some time yet, so I don’t know how long I’ll have in here before one of the nurses comes to check on you.”

She blinked, trying to focus on those chiseled features. While he was somehow achingly familiar, she knew she’d never seen him before. How sad to have wasted all this time.

“You were shot during a bank robbery.”

The muzzle of the gun. Deafening noise. Blood. So much blood.

Jerome!

“Easy. You’re safe now,” his voice continued.

Blood had pumped from Mrs. Argossy’s fallen form to mingle with the spilled soda on the white tile floor.

“Listen to me, Sydney. You’re safe.”

His words banished the horrible images. His hand absently stroked her shoulder, calming the tremors that threatened to shake her apart.

“You’re in the hospital. You’ve been here three days. Do you understand?”

She focused on his face, trying to still the living nightmare. His somber expression helped hold the horror at bay. Since it seemed important to him that she agree, she nodded.

“Who are you?” Her voice croaked, sounding as rusty and sore as it felt.

His lips thinned. “Noah.”

The name took processing. “Jerome’s brother?”

No. Anyone but Jerome’s brother. Fate couldn’t be so unkind. But that would explain the military uniform. Jerome had often talked about his brother, the major.

“Yes. I’m Jerome’s brother.”

Deep sadness filled his brooding expression. She wanted to reach out to him, to ease that sorrow. This was Jerome’s brother!

Jerome.

She shut her eyes against the pain. In her head, the gunshots echoed, blending with the screams she’d locked inside. She smelled the sharp tang that had hung in the wisps of smoke. She felt Jerome’s full weight crashing down on her as he stumbled forward and collapsed, his body jerking repeatedly, pinning her to the floor.

She didn’t need the words, but her lips formed them anyhow. She opened her eyes. “He’s dead,” she stated. She knew it to be true.

“Yes.”

Noah responded so softly she almost didn’t hear him as the first salty tear trickled down her cheek.

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Please. We need to talk before they toss me out of here.”

She stared at him, frustrated by her inability to wipe the wetness from her cheek. “I wasn’t planning to give in to hysterics.”

His expression softened. “Good. That would send me screaming. Do you remember everything that happened?”

If only she could forget.

She tried to sit up and found she still couldn’t move her hands. For the first time, she noticed the IV bottle on the other side of the bed. She blinked rapidly in frustration and Noah withdrew a crisp white handkerchief. He blotted her cheeks and eyes.

The elusive scent she’d noticed on awakening came from him, she realized. Probably a cologne, though it was so faint she couldn’t be certain. The distracting smell helped to calm her, for some reason.

“Mrs. Argossy?”

“Dead,” he answered quietly.

Sydney cringed.

“Take deep breaths,” Noah encouraged.

A long shudder passed through her. Once again she tried to move. “My hands—”

“They tied you down so you wouldn’t thrash around anymore. You pulled the IV out twice. They were afraid you’d injure yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You slammed your head against something when you fell, Sydney. You suffered a concussion. When you finally started to come to, you began to thrash around so violently that they had to sedate you.”

“I don’t remember.” Yet she could almost remember horrible screams that felt lodged deep inside her. She stared up at him, focusing on his face in a bid for control.

“My head hurts.”

He nodded. “That’s to be expected.”

“I wasn’t expecting it.” He smiled and she relaxed. “Jerome didn’t know you were coming, did he?”

Pain flashed in his dark eyes. “No. I was due for some leave next week, but I hadn’t planned to come here.”

Sydney didn’t know what to say. She knew the brothers weren’t close. And knowing her husband as well as she did now, she suspected more than age and distance had separated the men.

“Sydney, I know the timing is off, but we need to talk.”

“I’m sorry, Noah. I’m afraid I’m muzzy. What—”

“So, you’re awake at last! You aren’t supposed to be in here at this hour, Mr. Inglewood. Official visiting hours don’t start until ten.”

The anemic-looking nurse bustled inside. She frowned at Noah, and came forward so she could stand officiously over the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Sydney didn’t know how to answer the question. Mostly, she felt confused. Her gaze sought Noah. She sensed him willing her to remain in control and she swallowed hard.

“I’d like to move my hands,” she managed.

“I’ll check with the doctor. Do you know who you are?”

“Of course I know who I am.”

The nurse waited.

“Sydney Edwards.” She saw Noah’s frown. “Inglewood,” she added.

“Do you know where you are?”

“The hospital.”

“Do you know why?”

Her irritation mounted along with her headache. Sydney glared at the nurse. “I was shot. Now, I’d like to speak to the doctor, please.”

“He’ll be by to see you shortly.” The nurse planted a thermometer in her mouth.

Sydney thrust the offending object aside with her tongue. “Now!”

“Mrs. Inglewood, you really mustn’t get excited.”

Sydney stopped listening. “Will you get him for me?” she asked Noah, avoiding the thermometer.

He nodded. “I’ll be back.”

Sydney waited, but he didn’t return. And by afternoon, she knew everything.

“I’m afraid we won’t be able to determine if you’ll regain the full use of all the fingers until after the swelling goes down,” the self-important surgeon told her. “The nerve and muscle damage was extensive.”

Staring at her completely bandaged right hand, Sydney was barely able to control the fearful anxiety the doctor’s words created. Her career as a jeweler might be over. With only one usable hand, could she do the intricate work required? Her heart pounded. Her throat went dry.

Then he dropped his bombshell.

“Fortunately, the baby is fine. Your concussion had us worried at first, naturally, but it appears there’s no permanent damage done there either. You may experience some headaches and a little dizziness from the concussion….”

Baby?

He might as well have spoken in Chinese.

“I’m pregnant?” Sydney could only stare at the man. Jerome’s friend, the fertility doctor, had told them the procedure hadn’t worked! “Are you certain?”

Thrown off stride by the interruption, the doctor rubbed the pen tip against the side of his face as if bewildered. “Quite certain, Mrs. Inglewood. You appear to be about three months pregnant. When was…?”

That incompetent twit! Hadn’t she guessed she couldn’t trust Jerome’s friend? His entire clinic had done little to inspire confidence. She should have known he’d get the test results wrong.

“I got pregnant three months and nine days ago,” she told the surgeon. That date was engraved on her mind for all time.

Like a delayed electric charge, the impact of his revelation suddenly slammed home. She was going to have a baby! Jerome’s baby.

But Jerome was dead!

She’d been in the process of filing for a divorce.

She could not be pregnant! Not now! Not when this officious surgeon was implying that her hand might never function properly again and her whole career could be in jeopardy.

Panic clogged her throat while the surgeon stood beside her, calmly, arrogantly sure of himself as he continued to list her health concerns. The soft-spoken man hadn’t a clue that his words were doing more to shock her than the bullet had done.

Sydney glanced at her stomach and shook her head in denial. She didn’t look pregnant. She didn’t feel pregnant. She did not want to be pregnant. Not now. She wanted this doctor to be wrong.

A vision of a tall man in a military uniform made her close her eyes in despair. Noah. She was pregnant with his brother’s baby.

A shiver racked her entire body. This wasn’t happening. She wanted to grab her pounding head and close her eyes until the nightmare ended.

“Mrs. Inglewood, I assure you,” the surgeon continued, “the baby is fine. There’s no cause for alarm.”

Wanting to laugh, she also wanted to cry. No wonder she’d been thrashing around when she’d started to wake up. She wanted to thrash around again right now. Her entire world had just shifted one hundred eighty degrees.

She was relieved when the doctor finally left. Staring out the window, she tried to calm the insidious threat of panic welling in her chest. Pregnant! What was she going to do?

She hadn’t liked the small fertility clinic or the hyper doctor who ran it, but Jerome had insisted on using both. The man was a former schoolmate. A friend. And his brand-new clinic needed patients. Small wonder. The creep also needed to go back to medical school.

Despite his assurance that the procedure hadn’t worked, she was pregnant. She clutched the sheet covering her, wadding the material into a destructive ball. Whether the timing suited her or not, Sydney was going to have the child she’d always wanted.

The police and FBI arrived before she had time to think past the shock. Despite their effusive apologies for disturbing her, Sydney spent the bulk of the afternoon answering questions until her voice was hoarse and her head felt as if it were going to come apart in her hands.

The thieves had made off with more than three quarters of a million dollars. They hadn’t left a trace of evidence behind. They’d even been smart enough to locate and take the bank’s surveillance tapes. All the authorities had was Sydney, the only eyewitness to what had happened. Not that she was much help. Despite her best efforts, Sydney couldn’t give them anything to work with. Exhausted, she fell asleep as soon as they left.

Dreams fragmented her sleep. Real events blended with menacing nightmares that brought her to the edge of waking. She knew she was dreaming, but she couldn’t seem to force her heavy eyes open.

Fear became a writhing force in her chest as she faced the gunman all over again. In her dream, someone hovered just out of sight. The danger felt all too real. If only she could open her eyes to look.

Sydney struggled to release herself from the nightmare’s hold. Her senses screamed at her to open her eyes. A crash pierced the nightmare, jarring her free. She opened her eyes and gasped for air. A bearded man with long hair stood beside her bed.

Piercing dark eyes glared down at her, plunging icy fear straight through her veins. He withdrew his hand from inside the nightstand drawer. Fingers flexed. A subtle threat. But there was no subtlety in the stare that drilled into her. The menace was real. She drew in a ragged breath of air to scream when a voice in the hall called out sharply.

“Hey, orderly! They need your help in 413! Someone fell!”

Without a word, the man turned and strode away.

Badly shaken, Sydney struggled to sit up. Pain clawed her head with needlelike talons. Dropping her chin to her chest, she pressed her palm against her throbbing temple, so dizzy she was nearly sick. The wave of vertigo passed, leaving her weak and spent in reaction. Only when she could finally open her eyes again and everything remained still did she notice the dinner tray sitting on the tray table beside her.

The drawer of her nightstand was partially open. A vase of flowers had fallen to the floor. It must have been the crash that had penetrated her nightmare.

Hand on the call button, she hesitated. Had the threat been real, or imagined? Had the orderly merely looked angry because he’d knocked over the vase and was afraid he’d be in trouble? Or was there another, more sinister reason?

Surely the police officer who’d summoned the man wouldn’t have let anyone in her room without credentials.

But years of television cop shows said anyone could get a set of credentials. And she hadn’t noticed any around his neck. Maybe he’d brought in her dinner tray and maybe he hadn’t. For certain he’d knocked over the flowers. And his hands had been inside the drawer of her nightstand. He could have been searching for something to wipe up the mess, but the memory of his cold dark eyes sent her hand to the call light.

Minutes passed. No one came. Why wasn’t anyone responding?

Shoving back the covers, Sydney stood. Dizzy, she grabbed the tray table for support. The stand began to roll.

“Mrs. Inglewood!”

A slip of a nurse rushed inside the room, barely in time to prevent her fall.

“I almost didn’t catch you! Here sit down. There’s glass all over the floor! You knocked over a vase. You should have waited for someone to come and help you up. We had an emergency. The patient down the hall just fell out of bed. He’s a large man and it took four of us to get him back in again. The last thing we need is for you to fall down, too. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The man who was just in here, I think he brought this tray. Do you know him?”

Puzzled, the woman stared. “I don’t know what man you’re talking about. I didn’t see who delivered the trays tonight. I’m not even the nurse for this section. I just saw your light flashing and…is there a problem?”

With the pretty young nurse looking up at her, Sydney started feeling foolish. What if she’d made a mistake? They would think she was some sort of paranoid fool. But if she hadn’t made a mistake?

“Look, I know this sounds crazy, but I woke up and found him staring at me. Are you sure he really works here?”

The nurse started looking worried. “Did he say something inappropriate? Did he touch you?”

“No. No, he didn’t do anything. I mean, besides knocking over that vase. But I don’t think he was wearing identification. You know, like yours.”

The woman relaxed slightly, though she still looked concerned. “The police aren’t letting anyone in here without identification, Mrs. Inglewood.”

“I know that! Please. Humor me. Just check him out, will you? Or have the police officer on duty check him out. Please!”

“All right. Tell me what the man looked like.”

“He had long brown hair and a beard and mustache. And piercing brown eyes.”

The nurse relaxed. “Oh, him. Don’t worry. He’s the orderly that helped us get Mr. Logler off the floor. I think he’s new, but I’ll check just to make sure.”

The loudspeaker came to life before Sydney could question that statement. “Karin Stipes, call in please.”

“That’s me. I swear there’s a full moon out tonight. The whole place is going crazy. I’ll be right back. And I’ll check on that orderly for you. You just relax. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, from what I hear.”

Sydney sank back against the pillows, feeling oddly unsettled. The nurse was placating her. She wanted to argue, but her head was killing her. If only Noah would return.

The thought surprised her. Why had she automatically thought of Noah? She didn’t even know him, and that made her inutterably sad.

It must be the combination of the drugs in her system and the terrible nightmares that were throwing her thoughts into such chaos. She shouldn’t be thinking of Noah at all.

No doubt she was simply overreacting to finding that orderly standing over her.

Sydney looked at the open drawer in her nightstand. Then she regarded the dinner tray.

And maybe she wasn’t.

Despite the nurse’s assurances, there had been something frightening about the orderly. If she was paranoid, so be it. Sydney wanted to go home.

Only, where was home? Certainly not the apartment she’d so briefly shared with Jerome. She couldn’t go back there, any more than she could take back the things she’d said to him the last time they’d talked.

She had meant every word, but that only added to her guilt. Theirs had never been a normal marriage, but she’d gone into the situation with her eyes open—for the most part. Nothing could have prepared her for the changes in Jerome once they married. Yet, despite all their battles, she’d never wished him ill. They’d made a mistake. A mistake she’d been trying to rectify.

Whether by accident or design, she couldn’t forget that Jerome had saved her life.

Sydney closed her eyes, turned her face into her pillow and gave in to the grief and fear suddenly crowding her mind. Sobs finally turned to hiccups, leaving her spent and listless. She must have fallen deeply asleep because she didn’t see or hear whoever came in and took away her tray and cleaned up the broken vase of flowers.

Surprisingly, when she did wake, even her head felt better. Time passed slowly. Her eyes were closing again when someone entered the room. His scent reached her before she could turn her head to look in his direction. When she did, she had to battle another sudden wave of vertigo.

“You still look pretty bad,” Noah said.

He was a tall, powerfully built man who carried himself with an air of assurance and authority that commanded attention. Alpha male, she thought. Used to being in charge. Yet instead of being repelled by this, she was curiously drawn to Noah.

He came to a halt beside her bed. Up close, she saw that circles pouched beneath Noah’s eyes and lines of strain marred his strong features.

“Have you looked in a mirror recently?” she managed to respond, uncomfortably aware on a feminine level of how disheveled she must appear. It was crazy, this jolt of physical awareness she felt when he looked at her.

She wanted to ask him where he’d been. Why he hadn’t come back as he promised earlier. Only she was afraid the questions would sound whiny. So she lifted her chin and met his gaze without flinching and tried to ignore the unsettling feelings deep inside.

Noah regarded her solemnly. He held an offering in his hand. A small African violet, she realized. She swallowed hard to keep unexpected tears at bay. What was happening to her emotions? Those tiny, velvety blue blossoms represented peace and contentment in her world. He couldn’t have chosen anything better—or anything worse.

“Please. I want to go home.”

She’d meant to thank him. The childish request came out instead. Noah set the plant on her nightstand.

“The doctor said maybe tomorrow.”

She shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. Stabbing pain lanced through her skull. Sydney gritted her teeth. “Now.”

“You must be feeling better.”

That didn’t merit a response.

“Your friends are worried,” he told her. “Hannah’s new husband, Bruce, had a real battle to get her to leave on their honeymoon.”

Astounded, she gaped at him. “I forgot all about the wedding!” She was to have been one of Hannah’s bridesmaids. No wonder none of her friends had come by to see her.

Noah walked to the narrow window near her bed and looked out. “Hannah wanted to wait, but Laura and Bruce convinced her you would want her to go ahead with the ceremony.”

Sydney nipped a trace of regret. She fervently wished she could have been there, but she was honestly glad Hannah hadn’t postponed her wedding. Hannah and Bruce were so passionately in love that at times it was almost embarrassing.

“They tried to see you yesterday before the service,” Noah continued, “but the police were with you. The doctor left instructions that you weren’t to have visitors.”

Sydney stared at him, appalled. “I would have seen them! No one told me they were here.”

“No. I don’t imagine they did.” He pulled a heavy visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down. He wasn’t wearing his military uniform anymore, yet the formal white shirt and dark dress pants were practically a uniform when worn with such commanding elegance.

“You have loyal friends,” he said slowly. “First, Hannah wanted to postpone the wedding, then she wanted to postpone the honeymoon.”

“Oh. She didn’t—”

“No, she didn’t. She and Bruce left as scheduled.”

Sydney relaxed. “How do you know them?”

“We spent a lot of time together in the waiting room. They even invited me to the wedding. I like your friends.”

“So do I.”

“Your friend, Laura, tried to cancel her flight out this morning, but she couldn’t. She was going to try and make a last-minute swap. If she succeeds, she’ll be by in the morning.”

Laura was a flight attendant who’d complained long and hard about having to make a cross-country trip right after Hannah’s wedding. Sydney remembered how they’d teased her about restricting her champagne intake. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now Hannah was married and Jerome was dead and nothing would ever be the same again.

“Easy,” Noah said gently. He stared at her with un-blinking eyes. Why did his presence seem to offer safety in a world gone mad? She had to stop thinking like that.

“I feel like I’m living in a nightmare. Tell me something, if I wasn’t supposed to have visitors, how come they let you in?” she demanded, unsettled by her awareness of him. In truth, she suspected Noah hadn’t waited for an invitation. Pesky things like hospital rules wouldn’t stop him if he wanted something.

“I’m considered family.”

Family. Her hand rested against her stomach. His eyes followed the motion and an intense look entered his features.

“We have to talk about this situation, Sydney.”

He knew about the baby. It was there in his eyes. She thought of the new life growing inside her, of her tumultuous relationship with his brother, and she tried not to let her sudden shudder show.

“Is everything all right?” His gaze fell to her abdomen. She resisted an impulse to touch her stomach again. She was oddly embarrassed by his knowledge of her condition.

“Everything’s fine.” Her entire world had just collapsed and been reformed, but everything was fine. Realizing she was about to give in to another bout of self-pity, Sydney sat up. “Would you find my clothing, please? I want to go home.”

“We need to talk about the baby and your plans, Sydney.”

“I want to get out of here,” she repeated.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tonight!”

His brow furrowed. “You need to think of the baby.”

She closed her eyes against the pain that came from more than simply her throbbing head.

“Jerome’s baby.” As if she could think of anything else right now.

Noah’s expression darkened. She couldn’t think about him right now. Her head pounded with thoughts of the baby. She’d wanted a child badly enough to marry the wrong man just to have one. What a fool she’d been. Didn’t they always say, be careful what you wish for?

Sydney pulled back the covers, ignoring Noah’s frown, and started to swing her legs off the bed. He moved so quickly he startled her. His hand came down on her shoulder, kindly, but firmly. She couldn’t meet his eyes. They saw entirely too much.

“I want my clothes.”

“You don’t have any clothes here, Sydney. They cut them off your body to check for injuries. You were covered in blood.”

“Then I’ll go home naked.”

He half smiled. Her breath caught in her throat. Why, he was handsome. Nothing like Jerome, of course, but he would age with a depth and grace that would make him more striking with every year.

What was she thinking? She didn’t care what Noah looked like. The man was her husband’s brother!

“You won’t have to go home naked,” he was saying. “I’ll stop by your apartment first thing in the morning and get you something to wear home.”

“No!” She swallowed her instant panic and tried for a calm she was far from feeling. “I need to leave now.”

All traces of humor disappeared from his face. He misunderstood her panic and regarded her steadily. “Are you always this bossy?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t bring herself to correct his impression. As soon as he saw the apartment she’d shared with his brother, he’d know how bad things had been between them. She wasn’t ready to answer the sort of questions he would then ask. And he would demand explanations as soon as he realized how many of her belongings were gone from the apartment she’d supposedly shared with Jerome.

“You must have led Jerome around like a puppy.”

The unfairness of his words stung. They couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He knew nothing about her relationship with Jerome. And she wasn’t about to tell him any details, either. She owed Jerome that much.

“The doctor said tomorrow morning,” Noah temporized. “If you’re well enough.”

“I’m well enough right now.” It was only a small lie. She felt weaker than a day-old kitten. A mangled, day-old kitten with a headache. But she could manage. She was used to managing.

Noah tipped his head to regard her. “My father told me I should never call a lady a liar.”

“But you’ll make an exception in my case?”

He ignored her challenge completely. “Morning is only a few hours away,” he stated. “Get a good night’s sleep and then we’ll talk.”

She thought of the nightmare and controlled another shudder.

“I’ll make a few arrangements and bring you something to wear,” he finished.

“What sort of arrangements?”

“You’re going to need help.”

She shook her head. The room spun slightly, forcing her eyes closed to combat the sensation. The doctor had said the vertigo would eventually go away. She should have asked him to define “eventually.”

“I won’t need any help,” she told Noah. She kept her eyes shut to avoid looking up at him. “And if I do, that’s my problem.”

“And the baby?”

“Jerome is dead. The baby is my problem as well.”

She would never allow another man in her life who thought he could tell her what to do or how to do it.

“I’d like to help.”

That snapped her eyes open. “Why?”

His eyes flared with a tumble of emotions. He started to respond and stopped. Sydney realized she was rubbing her temples to try and ease the pounding pain in her head and dropped her hands to the sheet. Noah walked to the window. Silence stretched between them.

“Sydney, I signed the papers to have my only brother buried yesterday morning,” Noah said suddenly. “There was nothing I could do to help him. Won’t you at least let me try to help you?”

His words shocked her anew. “You already had Jerome buried?”

“Yes. We’ll hold a memorial service for him when you’re well enough.”

“You had no right!”

Noah turned back to her, sadness etched in the creases about his eyes. His expression was filled with regret and compassion. “I guess not. I’m sorry, Sydney.”

She couldn’t stand the pain in Noah’s expression. The truth was, he did have rights. Probably more than she had. His remorse disturbed her almost as much as the chaos of her thoughts. Noah wasn’t to blame for anything. He was doing his best to help, yet she was snapping at him like a rabid dog.

“Why didn’t you wait?” she asked more calmly.

“The morgue released the body. I had decisions to make—so I made them.”

His small shrug tugged at her heart. Despite his size and self-assurance, Noah was a vulnerable man.

“Your concussion had the doctors worried,” he continued. “You kept slipping in and out of consciousness. They didn’t know how soon you’d be able to make decisions.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” And she did. She would have made the same arrangements if she’d been able to. She settled back against the bed, suddenly exhausted.

He rested his hand lightly on her arm. “Thank you.”

“No. I’m the one who should be thanking you. For the plant and…for everything else.” His touch disturbed her.

Who was she trying to kid? Everything about him disturbed her. He was a kind, caring sort of man.

He was also Jerome’s brother.

“Did you know Jerome saved my life?” she asked, wanting to erase some of the hurt he must be feeling.

“The investigators told me.” A muscle, clenched too tightly, twitched in Noah’s stern jaw. “He must have loved you very much.”

Oh, God. The truth lay bitterly in her mind. Could Noah read that truth in her eyes? She closed them against his invasive stare.

“I’d like to take care of you, Sydney. At least make sure you and the baby are settled and have everything you need.”

She turned away and shoved a hand through her hair. Noah was Jerome’s brother, but he was also a stranger. She’d learned a long time ago that the only one she could depend on was herself. “I appreciate the offer, but—”

He stopped her words with an outstretched palm. “Please. Just stay here and rest until morning like the doctor ordered. Then I’ll see about getting you sprung. When you’re feeling stronger, you can tell me to go if that’s what you want. In the meantime—”

“And will you?” Or would he be like Jerome, turning possessive, demanding, insistent that things had to be his way or no way?

Noah’s lips gave a wry twist. “Will I go? Well, maybe not right away, but I’d rather have this battle when you don’t look like a puff of wind could blow you over. If you’ll give me the keys to your apartment…”

Sydney pointed at the nightstand as lethargy settled over her. Sooner or later he was going to learn the truth. Did it really make any difference if he went to the apartment now?

Noah reached into the drawer next to her bed and withdrew her purse. Sydney found her gaze riveted on the dark stains that marred the white leather surface. As he fished out her keys, images flashed before her eyes. Soda and blood. The bank enclosure had run with both.

She slumped back against the pillow. Bile rose in her throat.

“Hey. What is it? Are you feeling sick? Should I call for the nurse?”

“No.” She choked out the word and shut her eyes. “Could you…would you take the purse away with you?”

Her blood, Mrs. Argossy’s or Jerome’s? Did it matter? She never wanted to see that handbag again.

Without a word, he emptied the contents into the open drawer. “I’ll bring you another purse tomorrow. Is there a particular outfit you’d like?” he asked.

Sydney shook her head.

Once again, his hand rested lightly on her shoulder. The gesture offered both friendship and concern.

“Get some rest tonight. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’m not your responsibility.” She had to say it even though part of her was selfishly glad he cared. She was so tired of always being strong.

“I know. I’ll be back. Call if you need anything. I left the hotel number under your telephone.”

“Thank you.”

She watched him disappear through the doorway and reaffirmed the decision she’d made when she’d faced the investigators. Jerome was the father of her baby. The man who had saved her life. He’d been Noah’s only family, and in the eyes of the world, Jerome had died a hero.

No one would ever learn what she suspected.

THEY WOKE HER again to give her a sleeping pill. She couldn’t believe they actually did that. Groggily, she accepted the pill, put it in her mouth and swallowed the water. As soon as the nurse left, Sydney spit the pill out. She didn’t need drugs that would make her fuzzy. She needed a clear head in the morning so they’d let her go home. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

It could have been minutes or hours later when she roused from another disturbing cycle of dreams. Her heart was beating much too fast and her breath came in short pants. She struggled to focus on yet another person entering her room. How was she supposed to get any rest when they kept waking her every time she fell asleep?

Darkness shadowed the room. Restlessly, she watched the person close the door to the hallway without a sound. The empty bed next to hers took on a ghostly appearance in the dim light filtering in through the solitary window. Maybe that was why the figure’s approach appeared almost stealthy.

Sydney’s heart began thumping more quickly.

The person was too silent. He’d closed the door. A nurse who’d come to check on her wouldn’t close the door. Instantly, she pictured the bearded orderly.

Slowly, she inched her fingers toward the call light, afraid to let him know she was awake. The impression of danger grew stronger as the person neared the bed. There was something wrong with his face. Her vision shouldn’t be blurry. She hadn’t swallowed the sleeping pill. Yet she couldn’t make out any features.

Her fingers found the call button. Sydney pressed it as the man suddenly rushed forward, knocking the button from her hand.

Sydney screamed. A rubber-glove-encased hand clamped over her mouth, choking off the sound. The other hand circled her throat in a breath-stealing grip.

In that instant, she realized he wore a ski mask over his head.

Desperately, she threw herself to one side. Pain radiated down her arm as her bandaged hand struck the bed rail.

“Where is it?”

The waft of garlic was sickening. She clawed at those short, blunt fingers pressing into her throat. He was incredibly strong. She couldn’t breathe!

She beat at his face while his voice continued to demand. Didn’t he realize she couldn’t answer? If she could just reach his eyes!

Blackness dimmed her vision. Her head swam with vertigo.

Noah had been wrong. Following the doctor’s orders had been a terrible idea. In fact, it was about to get her killed.