Читать книгу Nyc Angels & Gold Coast Angels Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 29

ELEANOR HAD SEEN Ty several times around the hospital, had even grabbed a few quick cups of coffee with him in the cafeteria and twice they’d shared lunch.

She’d heard the rumors that were flying around, had fiercely denied them, but everyone knew Ty’s reputation.

“Just be careful, Eleanor,” Linda Busby, a registered nurse in her early sixties who worked in the NICU, warned. “Dr. Donaldson is wonderful. I swear every woman he’s gone out with still sings his praises, so I know he’s a great guy. However, you don’t play the dating games most men and women do, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“We’re just friends.” They were. Not once had Ty attempted to kiss her or hold her hand other than the brief moment at the restaurant. Actually, on the night of the ribbon-cutting he’d touched her more than he had all the other times they’d seen each other since then combined.

“Watch him,” Linda warned, her hands on her hips. “He isn’t known for being just friends with pretty young girls.”

Seeing Ty behind the nurse and knowing her friend was unaware of their eavesdropper, who was nodding his head in agreement with everything Linda said, Eleanor bit back a smile.

“Then you might want to watch out for him, too. I hear he’s into the whole cougar thing.”

Linda spun at Ty’s teasing comment, her face turning beet-red. She playfully smacked his arm. “You, young man, are bad.”

His grin killed any argument anyone tried to make to the contrary. “Wanna be bad with me, darlin’?”

Linda shook her head, turned to Eleanor. “Like I said, watch this one. He uses that good-ole-boy Southern charm to boil our Northern-girl blood. You’d be wise to steer clear.”

“You know you love me,” Ty teased her.

Linda and Eleanor both rolled their eyes, making Ty laugh out loud.

“I’ve got work to do.” She gave Ty a well-meaning glare and pointed her finger at him. “You behave.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her his lopsided grin.

Linda walked away smiling, shaking her head and mumbling something about God having blessed Texas.

“You here to check on the new twenty-four-week preemie?” Eleanor asked him, wondering why her heart was beating so fast in her chest just from Ty being near.

His expression sobered. “I am. The family given him a name yet?”

She’d taken a peek at the newborn herself just a few minutes prior to Linda giving her advice about spending so much time with Ty.

“No.” Eleanor shook her head, walking with him to the little boy’s incubator. “He’s just Male Griffin at the moment. Linda told me they say they aren’t going to. They think that will only make them get more attached.”

Glancing toward her, Ty winced. “They’ve not been to see him?”

“The father has, but he refuses to let his wife come. Her nurse says she asks continually but that she won’t go against her husband’s wishes.”

His eyes assessing the tiny baby he’d watched be born and had immediately taken charge of, Ty sighed. “He’s trying to protect her, but how is she not supposed to already be attached to a baby she carried inside her body for twenty-four weeks and built a lifetime of dreams around?”

“He knows her better than we do, but if she wants to see her baby, he shouldn’t keep her from doing so. If he dies and she hasn’t seen him even though she really wanted to, she may never forgive herself.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Ty agreed.

Eleanor couldn’t imagine the fear the baby’s parents must be going through, the worries, the doubts. Her heart went out both to the parents and to the little boy who very well might not live.

Ty examined the baby, discussed his immediate care with Eleanor, asking her opinion on a few points and then they stood next to the incubator, watching the baby struggle for each second of life, alive only by the technology that kept him that way.

Even though she dealt with similar cases routinely, just looking at the tiny baby was enough to make Eleanor’s heart clench.

As if maybe he’d had a few heart clenches of his own, Ty inhaled sharply, then turned toward her. “Pick you up at six for the fund-raiser tonight, right?”

Her pulse jumping for no good reason at all except for the way his gaze held hers, Eleanor shook her head. “My father insists on sending his limo for you.”

Ty’s dark brows drew together. “Will you already be in that limo?”

Eleanor shrugged. “I have no idea what order my father has planned. I thought perhaps you two had discussed the arrangements.” She’d barely spoken to her father since the morning he’d summoned Ty to the Aston penthouse. “I just know that when he called me this morning he insisted on providing our transportation. For us both to be ready so we wouldn’t be late arrivals. He wants us to make a big media splash.”

Apparently her father planned to milk her having a date for all it was worth. Just the thought of being in the crowded ballroom, of all the backslapping and paparazzi that would be there was enough to make her heart do that funny little flipping sensation that always preceded a full-blown panic attack. She hated crowds, hated that as the senator’s daughter she’d be photographed. At least tonight she’d have Ty at her side. Perhaps for that she should thank her father because she couldn’t have made it through the ribbon-cutting without him.

Ty’s lips twisted with displeasure. “For future reference, I need to let your father know that I prefer to pick up my own dates.”

Future dates? As in dates her father arranged between them? Or real dates? As in dates that he asked her to go on with him because he wanted to be with her? Better yet, why did she desperately wish tonight was a real date?

Ty supposed there were advantages to arriving to pick Eleanor up from her apartment in the Aston limo. For instance, he didn’t have to find parking while he ran inside to collect her.

Although a nice apartment complex, Eleanor didn’t live in the grandiose style of the Aston penthouse. Not that he actually saw the inside of her apartment. The doorman buzzed her and she insisted on meeting him in the lobby. Fine, nothing was going according to how he’d pictured it in his mind.

He’d look a dork for bringing flowers and handing them to her in the lobby, but so be it because he’d wanted to do this right. Whatever right was.

The moment his gaze landed on her stepping out of the elevator he felt like a country hick come to the big city and about to meet a glamorous star.

“Hello, Ellie,” he greeted her in a worshipful whisper.

Her forehead creased. “I told you not to call me that.”

“And I agreed to only do so when you stole my breath, darlin’.”

She reached out, placed her palm near his nostrils. “Still breathing, so don’t let it happen again.”

But her demand was tempered by the way her eyes had lit up when he’d reminded her of their deal.

“You are beautiful, by the way,” he added, thinking truer words had never been spoken. She’d clipped her hair up, but much looser than she wore for work. Although her dress was much more demure than the red number she’d worn for the ribbon-cutting, she still looked supersexy in the silky black number clinging to her body.

“So are you.”

At her response, Ty glanced down at his tuxedo. A black-and-white penguin suit when he was more comfortable in scrubs or a pair of well-worn jeans. Nothing beautiful about him. But Eleanor was truly gorgeous. She looked as if she should be gracing an ad for a classic movie much as Audrey Hepburn would have or Grace Kelly. Eleanor shamed them both.

“Nice flowers.” She smiled softly at him when he just stood staring at her.

Wondering at how his chest tightened at her shy smile, Ty grinned back. “Yeah, darlin’, I think your doorman has a thing for me. He insisted I take these …” he held up the bouquet “… although I’m pretty sure he stole them out of one of the floral arrangements in here.” He held them out toward her. “You better stash them in your apartment to save me from getting in trouble, just in case.”

She took the flowers, closed her eyes and breathed in their fragrance, then smiled in a way that really put his chest into lockdown. “Thank you, Ty, but you didn’t have to bring me flowers. It’s not as if this is a real date.”

Not a real date? Hadn’t they already been through this the night they’d gone to dinner?

“What is it, then?”

Cheeks pink, her gaze averted. “A deal you and my father arranged.”

Was that how she saw tonight? As something he and her father had arranged? Did she not want to be with him? He’d thought … Never mind what he’d thought.

“I still think you should have just asked one of your women to go with you to Texas. You’d have saved yourself a lot of trouble.” She walked over to the front desk, gave the flowers to the smiling older man there, leaned over and kissed his cheek.

When she returned to where he stood watching, Ty scratched his head. “My women?”

“One of the women you’ve taken out for real.”

Enough was enough. “This is real.”

Not responding, she just smiled as if she was humoring him. She probably was.

“Come on, darlin’,” he said, not liking the frustration moving through him. He took her hand. “Let’s go get the party started. For real.”

Eleanor laughed at Ty’s latest corny joke. He’d been telling her silly little jokes all night. If she found herself feeling panicky or uptight, he’d lean over and whisper something totally outlandish in her ear just for her to hear.

“You’re beautiful.

“You’re one sexy woman, darlin’.

“I’m the luckiest man at the fund-raiser because I’m with you.

“Just in case there’s any doubt, let me remind you. This is a real date.”

Champagne had been flowing freely at her father’s announcement that he planned to run for another senate term. As if anyone had thought otherwise. Eleanor needed to have stopped drinking prior to her last glass of bubbly because her insides felt a little too warm and cozy. Because Ty’s whispered words were starting to get to her, were starting to make her want to do some whispering back into his ear.

Things like, “You’re gorgeous, Ty,” and “You’re one sexy man, darling,” and “I’m the luckiest woman at the fund-raiser because I’m with you.” And “I’m so glad this is a real date, because I’d really like you to kiss me before the night is over.”

“Wow!” he exclaimed, drawing her attention away from her daydreaming. “That’s your sister? The papers don’t do her justice.”

Ty’s words pulled Eleanor right out of her dreamy euphoria. Here they went. How many times throughout her life had she been interested in someone only to have them meet Brooke and forget she even existed? How many times had she been used as a means to get an introduction to glorious, glamorous Brooke?

“You want me to introduce you?”

Her words must have tipped him off, because he shifted, dragged his eyes away from Brooke and looked fully at Eleanor, searching her eyes.

She didn’t look away, didn’t back down.

For once she wasn’t going to be all nice about a man who was with her but wanted Brooke instead.

“Only if you want to, Ellie. Only if you want to.”

She gritted her teeth. The nickname only served to remind her of the contrast between her and her sister.

Forever she’d be Jelly Ellie when put next to beauty-queen Brooke.

“Oh, yes, I want to. Let’s go.” Might as well get it over with. Probably, if the truth be told, an introduction to Brooke had been on his agenda all along. Didn’t he realize all he’d have had to do was mention to the senator that he preferred slender blondes and Cole would have had him taking Brooke to Texas instead?

Brooke held court in the midst of about twenty people, mostly besotted men. She barely paid any heed to Eleanor joining her. Until her gaze landed on Ty.

“You brought Dr. Yummy to meet me.” Brooke’s gaze ran suggestively over Ty. “Goody.”

Goody, indeed. Eleanor wanted to gag. Why was she doing this? She liked Ty. Really liked him. Why was she serving him on a silver platter to her silly, immature sister?

Better to get it over with now than to get her emotions more entangled and then discover she had just been a means to get to her sister.

She already knew how that felt.

“Actually, it’s Dr. Donaldson,” Ty smoothly corrected with an easy smile. He slid his arm around Eleanor’s waist, his hand resting possessively at her lower back. “But as I’m your sister’s date for the evening, you can call me Ty.”

“As in tie me up and tie me down?” Brooke flirted, still eyeing Ty and making no pretense that she was interested.

Gag. Gag. Gag. Did men really find that attractive?

Looking at her sister in her figure-hugging blue dress and flawless appearance, Eleanor decided that if you looked like Brooke men would overlook almost everything. And did.

But rather than respond to Brooke’s obvious interest, Ty lifted Eleanor’s hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to her fingertips and winked at her. “Only if Ellie is the one doing the tying.”

It was a toss-up as to which sister’s jaw hit the floor first.

“Pardon?” Brooke blinked, sure she’d misunderstood, glancing back and forth between him and Eleanor.

Eleanor couldn’t speak. Had Ty really just dissed her sister in favor of her? In public? Had he gone mad?

“Sure thing.” Ty smoothly misunderstood Brooke’s comment, whether feigned or real Eleanor wasn’t sure. “We were headed to the dance floor anyway. Nice to meet any family member of Ellie’s.”

His hand stayed low on Eleanor’s back, guiding her toward the dance floor. She was too blown away to put up any kind of argument, instead instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.

Ty’s arms settled around her and they swayed in time to the music. “She always like that?”

Wondering at how their bodies had so naturally fallen into rhythm together, at how he had just done something no man ever had—chosen to spend time with her rather than Brooke—Eleanor shook her head.

Maybe she really had drunk more champagne than she’d realized. Maybe she was so drunk that she’d imagined everything that had just happened. Maybe she was really passed out on the ladies’ room floor.

“No?”

Automatically, she opened her mouth to defend her sister. It was what she’d done her whole life. But when her gaze met Ty’s she found the truth spilling from her mouth. “Usually she’s worse.” Oh, yeah, she’d drunk one glass of champagne too many. “Although really it’s not her fault.” Old habits died hard. “Everyone spoils her so it’s only natural that she expects everyone to bow at her feet.” Eleanor shrugged. “They usually do.”

Holding her close, Ty shuddered. “Tell me you took after your mother.”

All too aware of the strong arms around her, of the muscular body against hers, of the wonderfully male scent filling her nostrils, Eleanor laughed. “Because my mother is the only immediate family member you’ve not met and maybe there’s hope yet?”

His husky laugh warmed her insides. “Always knew you were one sharp cookie, Ellie.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you because she’s here and no doubt you’ll meet her before the night is through. I saw the senator and her looking our way earlier. And do not call me that name.”

“Don’t glare at me, Ellie.” His lips twitched. “I’m just keeping to our deal.”

“You’ve called me Ellie four times in the past five minutes,” she pointed out, frustrated at his insistence on the name. Sure, the way it rolled off his tongue always made her breath catch, but she didn’t like the name.

“Exactly.”

His one word sliced right through the past. She couldn’t look away from the sincerity in his eyes. Ty found her attractive, had chosen her over Brooke—

something that she’d never dreamed would happen—and he was holding her close to his body.

His wonderful, warm, hard, fantastic-smelling body that was obviously affected by holding her close.

“You are a very beautiful woman, Ellie Aston, and you have taken my breath away from the moment I arrived to pick you up this evening.”

Eleanor’s insides melted to ooey-gooey feminine happiness and for once she didn’t even glare at him for using the nickname she despised.

After all, a deal was a deal.

“When you look at me like that you make me feel beautiful,” she admitted, wondering if she was a fool for revealing so much, wondering if perhaps she should have cut off the champagne long ago because he couldn’t really be looking at her that way. Could he?

His fingers lifted her chin. He studied her face, her eyes, until she wanted to squirm away. He leaned forward and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. So soft she could almost think he was hesitant, but he wasn’t. He was strong and confident. His kiss had revered her as if she were something fragile, precious.

How would it feel to kiss Ty for real? On the mouth? To have him enthralled in passion, touching her, kissing her as if he craved her lips more than the air he breathed?

His hand pressed against her back, holding her close to him. Her cheek rested against his chest. She breathed in his musky fragrance, the smell of him intoxicating her much more than any alcohol she’d consumed.

He bent, spoke close to her ear. “I want to kiss you, Ellie, but not here. Not with all the photographers. I want our first kiss to be just between us, not fodder for some gossip page.”

She wanted to be kissed. Desperately. By Ty. She wanted that first kiss. Thousands more.

“We can leave anytime,” she offered.

He leaned back enough to look her in the eyes, as if trying to decide exactly what she was saying.

“Now,” she clarified. “Let’s leave now.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Hand in hand, they headed out of the ballroom, through the glitzy foyer, got their coats. Ty helped her into hers then they walked out onto the sidewalk.

As soon as Eleanor finished asking the attendant to call for the limo, Ty lifted her hand to his lips.

“Thank you for tonight, darlin’.”

The brisk night air grasped at her and she shivered. Reality began to set in, to wash away the effects of the alcohol haze that had enveloped her. Self-doubt set in.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she told him. “You’ve more than done your duty.”

His eyes darkened. “Done my duty?”

“As my escort for the evening. You were wonderful.”

“If I hadn’t wanted to come with you tonight, darlin’, I wouldn’t have.” His eyes glittered. “I’m here because I want to be. Because this was a date. A real date.”

Had he drunk so much that he’d fallen into the same fantasy as she had?

“My father is a very persuasive man. Maybe you just think you want to be here.”

“What? He used some kind of super-politician force to trick me into thinking I wanted to spend my evening with his lovely daughter?” Ty shook his head, blew a puff of cold breath into his hands, then smiled wickedly at her. “I don’t think so. We Texans are made of stronger stuff. I’m here because I want to be with you. No other reason.”

Eleanor blushed. “Thank you.”

“No. Thank you, Ellie.” Then he surprised her by pulling her to him. He kissed her fully on the mouth despite the fact they stood on the street and Lord only knew who might see them.

She didn’t care. Later she might, but at the moment all that mattered was that he was kissing her. Finally.

His lips were firm, confident, sure in their movements over hers. He tasted of heaven. He tasted of fire.

She wanted more. Much more.

Her fingers wove into the hair at his nape. Soft strands with just a touch of curl. She’d done so throughout the evening while dancing, but now she latched on, clasping the locks tightly within her grasp, needing him closer and closer still.

Vaguely she was aware of the limousine pulling up to the curb, of her and Ty separating long enough for him to generously tip the attendant and to help her into the back of the car.

Then he joined her and she was back where she wanted to be.

In Ty Donaldson’s arms.

Ty moved in a blur. A desire-driven blur.

One spurred on by a woman he foolishly hadn’t realized capable of such passion.

Ellie had passion.

He pressed his lips to her throat just so, and she moaned, spurring him on. He traced his hands down her body, touching places he’d carefully avoided while holding her on the dance floor.

“You are so hot,” he breathed against her throat, caressing his way to the sweet indention at her clavicle.

“Because you’re touching me,” she answered in a husky tone, her fingers threading through his hair, holding him to her. “That makes me feel hot.”

Somehow they made it into his apartment still dressed.

Once he closed the door and secured the lock, he made haste with her dress, letting it drop somewhere on the way to his bedroom.

He pushed her back onto his bed, loving how she looked lying there, watching him as he stripped off his clothes in record time.

“Wow,” she breathed, reaching her hand up to run over his abs. “You’re perfect, Ty.”

“You’re what’s perfect,” he corrected, joining her on the bed and pressing his body against hers. “So very perfect. See how you fit against me? Perfect.”

Her mouth and hands were all over him, leaving trails of goose bumps, making waves through his nervous system, rewriting his definition of pleasure.

Pushing her bra aside, he closed his lips around one pert nipple, then the other, taking turns laving her until she arched off the bed.

“Ty.” Her fingers cradled his head. He suckled harder, taking great pleasure in her breasts, in her passionate responses to his every touch.

“Tell me what you want, Ellie,” he encouraged, wanting to give her every pleasure, wanting to give her everything within his power to give. “Tell me where to touch you, how you want to be touched.”

For the briefest moment she stiffened in his embrace, her eyes searching his, then she relaxed and guided his mouth to hers.

She kissed him long, hard, deep, leaving him breathless.

“I. Want. You.”

He wanted her, too. He was pretty sure he told her somewhere during the time he stripped off her panties and then his boxers.

The way Eleanor’s eyes ate up his bare flesh set him afire, made him ache for her touch, for her body.

She looked at him as if she couldn’t wait another moment to feel him against her. To feel him inside her.

Maybe she couldn’t because she tugged on his shoulders, pulling him to her and wrapping her delectable legs around his.

Hands were everywhere.

Mouths were everywhere.

They touched desperately.

They touched with need, committing each other’s bodies to memory, learning every nuance, lighting fires that burned wickedly hot.

When Ty couldn’t stand another moment, he thrust deep between her welcoming thighs, plunging into almost blinding pleasure, knowing she’d rewritten much more than his definition of pleasure.

Ellie’s cry of satisfaction was everything.