Читать книгу Long Distance Lover - Donna Hill - Страница 17

Chapter 11

Kelly jumped when the door opened. Instinctively she pulled the hospital gown tighter around her body, a body that was rubber-band tight, stretched to the limit and had just snapped.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Maxwell,” Alex apologized.

“Where’s David?”

She sounded childlike asking for a parent or guardian—or lover. Alex crossed the room to where she was perched atop the exam table. Just how close were they? Better question: why did it matter?

“He’s in the waiting room, waiting.”

Kelly shifted. “I’d prefer if he was here with me.” She looked straight at Alex then Ruby.

Alex hesitated for a moment before saying the first thing that came to his mind, which he was prone to do. For example he really wanted to ask her what the hell she was so frightened of and if she’d ever slept with David Livingston. Both questions were inappropriate, so he kept them to himself. And was proud of his effort.

“There’s really nothing to worry about. I’m relatively harmless.” He gave her his best “I’m really charming” smile.

Ruby chuckled lightly to shoo the tension aside. “Generally family and friends are more of a problem than the patients. I’ve had folks faint or run out of the room to relieve themselves of breakfast or lunch.”

Kelly’s raven eyes widened with alarm. “I thought you said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It isn’t. It just looks that way,” Alex said, sitting on the stool in front of the examination table.

Ruby handed him Kelly’s chart. He put it on his lap and focused on Kelly, whose expression vacillated between fear and defiance. Something didn’t sit right with him.

“Ms. Maxwell, one thing I want to assure you of, my only job is to get people well—as well as they can be. But in order to do that I need them to believe in me and in themselves. I told your bodyguard—uh, David—as much.” He gently lifted her leg. “When did they put this on?” he asked referring to the space boot.

“About a week ago. And he’s not my bodyguard.”

Alex glanced into her face but didn’t comment.

He ran his hands up and down her leg yet even with the cast and the boot a tingling thrill erupted in the base of her stomach and spiraled down her legs. Her inner thighs trembled. It wasn’t lost on Alex.

He gazed up at her. His eyes said “trust me.” Her nostrils flared and she jutted her chin forward.

“I believe in myself,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“And before this is all over, you’ll believe in me, too.”

Slowly he stood and lowered her leg, never breaking contact with her eyes. He stepped closer and put his arm around her waist to help her down and his fingers inadvertently slipped between the open folds in the back of the gown.

Her skin ignited beneath the tips of his fingers and she drew in a sharp breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she stammered.

It was only an instant that he held her, but to Kelly it was a sensual dance, that one moment that girls dream of.

Alex eased her to her feet. He cleared his throat along with his head. “Um, as soon as I get the report back from your MRI and blood work we can start on your rehab program.”

Kelly nodded, uncertain of her voice.

“’Scuse me,” Ruby interrupted. She shot Alex a “what the devil are you doing” look. “I’m going to schedule Ms. Maxwell to return on Wednesday. The labs and the MRI will be back by then.”

Alex’s lids flickered as if slowly awakening from a daydream. “Sure.” He reached for Kelly’s crutches then slowly released his hold on her waist once she was steady on her feet.

“Thanks.”

He stepped back. “Okay, so we’ll see you on Wednesday. Ruby will get you into X-ray and then over to the waiting room.”

Ruby held the door open while Kelly moved toward it.

Kelly glanced over her shoulder at Alex before leaving.

Ruby rolled her eyes at him and shut the door behind them.

Alex sat on the edge of the exam table flipping through Kelly’s chart. But he wasn’t seeing the words in front of him. Instead he was remembering the feel of her bare skin beneath his fingers. Accident or Freudian slip, he didn’t know. But whatever it was he couldn’t let it happen again. He’d made that mistake once before with Leigh and had no intention of a repeat performance.

Leigh Wells had nearly cost him his career. She’d come to him after surviving a horrific car accident. Her right leg was broken in three places and she’d had to learn to walk all over again. He spent every day with her for three months. And during that time he’d given into his greatest weakness—the female body.

Leigh was gorgeous, a model with a body to fall at her feet for. Lust and temptation outweighed his good judgment when he started making house calls well after business hours. Leigh welcomed him with open arms and open other things as well. He used all of his skills, every technique available to him to return Leigh back to the woman she once was. But nothing he did would eliminate the lifelong pain she would endure or the permanent limp. Her career was over and so was their relationship. The day he told her there was nothing else he could do was a day he’d never forget.

They were in bed together having just made love. It was near midnight in the middle of the summer. So hot you could barely breathe. The air conditioning was at its highest but they were soaking wet and sated. Alex peeled himself off the wet sheets to get a cigarette from the dresser on the other side of the room. He found his pack of Newports and lit up. He turned to offer one to Leigh and was stopped cold by the erotic vision in front of him.

Leigh was stretched out on the bed, completely naked—the sheet tossed to the floor. The stream of light from the moon cast a halo of sorts around her body making her look like a dream. Her knees were bent. Her thighs spread wide. Her hands stroked herself.

“I’m not quite finished,” she said in a voice that drifted through the dimness and licked his warm flesh.

Alex grinned. Leigh was insatiable and he loved to oblige her craving.

“I would come and get you but walking is difficult to say the least, especially after a session with you.”

Alex crushed out his cigarette and joined her on the bed. He caressed her right breast.

“It’s been six months, Hutch.” She stroked his thigh, moving higher until she held his hardening penis in her hand. She caressed it the way she knew he liked, flicking her finger across the head and relished the sound of his quick intake of breath. “I can’t stand this anymore,” she murmured in a husky whisper and for an instant Alex wasn’t sure if she meant waiting for session two or something else. “I want to be the woman I was,” she was saying, pulling him back to reality. “I want to be able to walk like normal.”

“Leigh…” This was the moment he’d been dreading. “I…”

She sat up, dropping the contents in her hand as if stung. “What is it?”

“There’s nothing else that can be done.”

She laughed but it sounded ill. “Nothing to be done! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We’ve done everything we could.”

“You’re telling me that I’m going to go through the rest of my life as a gimp in a brace, popping pain pills?” Her voice escalated in incredulity with every word. Her amber eyes flashed with anger and disbelief.

“I’ve done all I can, Leigh. You know that.”

“You promised me I would be fine, that I would walk again!”

“Leigh…” He reached for her and she smacked his hand away.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me! You promised me I would walk again.”

Her chest heaved in and out and even in the dimness of the room he could see the sparkle of tears hanging on her cheeks.

“You are a strong, beautiful woman. You will get through this.”

“What am I supposed to do with the rest of my life, Hutch? Tell me that. Tell me, you bastard!” She picked up a pillow from behind her and threw it at him. “Modeling, that’s me. It’s what I do. When was the last time you saw a model strut down a runway with a leg brace and crutches?”

She wept openly, screaming out her fury at the injustice of it all and the rage she felt toward Alex.

“You promised me,” she said from deep in her throat. She swiped at her face with the back of her hand. “And you lied.”

“Leigh…”

“Get out! Get out!”

He snatched up his pants and boxers from the floor where he’d tossed them earlier and gabbed his T-shirt from the back of the chair.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you as soon as I knew,” he said as he got dressed. “But I still had hope. I thought I could fix everything.”

She looked up at him through eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to ever see you again. Ever.”

“Are you sure this is what you want, Leigh?”

“It is.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked away as Alex walked out.

The next time he saw Leigh was three weeks later. Her face made the front page of the Daily News. “Supermodel Found Dead—Suicide.”

At times, some of the strangest times, he would see her face on that last night and when he least expected it, the weight of guilt would nearly cripple him and he’d spend days locked in his one-bedroom apartment trying to drink away the memories.

After Leigh’s death he’d gone to the chief resident Bert Logan, who was more like a father than a boss, and submitted his resignation. It was immediately rejected. Between Bert and Ruby, they’d eventually talked him out of it.

That was five years ago. For the most part, he’d put it behind him, slowed down on blaming himself and worked every day at regaining his confidence—and he had—until today.

He hopped down off the exam table, tucked Kelly Maxwell’s chart beneath his arm and walked out.

Until today.