Chapter Twenty-eight
I
can’t believe I’ve done this again. What was I thinking?
She should have known better, definitely should have known better. But she had been so tired of lying around. Birkie had left for the day, and Jillian had just wanted to get a little exercise, stretch her muscles, just plain move. Except for the minor relapse the night she’d followed an imaginary white wolf, she was making tremendous progress. Her wrist had healed quickly, and the itchy cast was finally gone. The concussion was healing too, and she actually had bursts of energy at times. Small bursts, but enough to give her hope that life would get back to normal eventually. She was walking every day, but she had other muscles that needed a workout. The doctors had encouraged her to
engage in mild activity
, but maybe martial arts weren’t quite mild enough.
The result was that she was lying on the concrete floor of the livestock wing, weak, dizzy, and trying desperately not to throw up. The floor was still soaked from being hosed down earlier, but then, she hadn’t expected to be lying on it. Especially not in an exercise bra and spandex bike shorts. She curled into a fetal position as she began to shiver, yet her head spun horribly every time she tried to get up. Could she possibly feel any worse?
“Jillian!” James was suddenly kneeling beside her. “Christ, are you all right? What happened?”
For one fraction of a second, Jillian’s heart thrilled traitorously at the sound of his voice. Then her brain kicked in, and her spirits sank like a lead weight in a pond. Things were, indeed, worse.
Of all the gin joints in all the world. . . .
He was feeling her forehead, and she swatted at his hand. She swore as the sudden movement nearly caused the nausea to break free.
“Talk to me, dammit, tell me where you’re hurt,” he ordered, grabbing her flailing hand and checking her pulse.
“I’m trying not to puke, that’s what’s wrong,” she said through gritted teeth. “Leave me alone.”
“No. Now what happened?”
She drew a long shaky breath. Two. “I was doing a few simple exercises, running through some basic Tae Kwon Do sequences. I just overdid it, that’s all. Got a little dizzy. I’ll be fine.”
“
Overdid it.
You mean you pushed yourself too hard. Dammit, it hasn’t even been a month yet since the accident. And here I thought you were a pretty good doctor.”
“Well, so I’m a lousy patient, okay? I feel stupid enough without an audience, thank you. Now go away—
Stop!
Stop that!” He had slid his hands beneath her and turned her into him, was carefully gathering her up. “Put me down, you jerk.”
“You’re right, you are a lousy patient. But you can’t stay here on this cold, wet floor. Your teeth are chattering, for Christ’s sake.”
“Oh God, please put me down, I’m going to—” She did. Again and again, even when it seemed there couldn’t possibly be anything left. Through it all, James held her steady. Warmth surrounded her, calming and soothing her until the terrible nausea subsided. Jillian lay limp and exhausted in James’s arms, certain that there was nothing left of her but a thin outer shell. “I told you I was gonna puke.”
“So you did. Better now?”
“A little maybe. God, I made such a mess. Get any on you?”
“Naw. Missed us both. And I’m sure this room has seen worse messes than this. I’ll hose it down later.” He eased her around so her head was resting on his shoulder. Held perfectly still for a moment, to give her dizziness a chance to pass. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“No.” She gripped his shirt as he began heading for the door. “Don’t move. What if I throw up again?”
“Well, if you do, you do. We’re both washable. But you need to lie down.”
Unable to muster an argument to that, Jillian just closed her eyes tight and gritted her teeth in anticipation of the trip. Was surprised at how smoothly he moved, how little motion she felt. Instead, her senses were almost totally preoccupied with the dependable strength of his muscled arms. Even the scent of his shirt, his scent, calmed her. She relaxed in spite of herself, and her eyes stayed closed.
I missed you. I’m so glad you came back.
Jillian stroked the great animal’s head, ran a hand over the long white fur, marveled at the silky texture of it.
The doctors kept trying to tell me you weren’t real, that my mind made you up. But I knew you existed, that you were real. I knew it inside. I knew it.
She knew this feeling too—there was nothing like it. Radiant warmth emanated from the giant wolf, like the physical heat from a glowing campfire infused with a reassuring emotional warmth. Smiling, she opened her eyes——and found herself looking at a broad heavily muscled chest. Slowly she lifted her gaze to a shadowed but familiar face. Stared at the overlong white-blond hair her fingers were presently stroking. What the hell was James Macleod doing here? What was
she
doing here? His brilliant blue eyes were closed, his breathing deep and regular.
Stunned, Jillian yanked her hand back just as it started to shake and hastily tried to tuck her arm beside her. It wasn’t possible though, not with the man’s powerful arms wrapped around her. She could feel his big hands on her back, gentle, protective. The heat from his body was soothing, like basking in front of an open fire. The unique scent of him surrounded her. She couldn’t breathe without inhaling the intoxicating blend of powerful male and something else, something both familiar and wild. She puzzled it out until she realized it was the forest she smelled. No, more specifically, the forest at night . . .
This is crazy. I’m dreaming, right? I dreamed about the wolf and now I’m dreaming about this man. Somebody please tell me I’m dreaming.
She was in her own bed, she could figure that much out. The light from the clinic’s parking lot shed an amber glow through the window blinds, brushed the shadows in the room with bronze. A hundred thoughts whirled through her head and none of them made any sense. Especially when the wolf-dream was so fresh in her mind, the pleasant emotions lingering, her body comfortable, her heart content.
The contentment was the most baffling thing of all. Why wasn’t she hollering the place down? She should be furious, shouldn’t she? She’d been trying so
damn
hard to never see James again and here he was. In the flesh. Very hot sexy male flesh. It was getting hard to breathe, not because he was holding her tightly, but because she couldn’t help being aroused.
Thank God he’s only naked to the waist.
Her body was definitely on James’s side, her heart was on his side. All she had left with which to resist James Macleod was her brain and it was starting to fog over, too.
“Feeling better?”
God, his eyes were so blue, even in the dim light. “Yes. No. What the hell are you doing in my bed, Macleod?”
“You were ice-cold and white as a sheet. You needed to get warm. It was this or build a bonfire with your couch.”
“Okay, well, I’m fine now. Thanks. You can go home.”
“I’m not leaving until I think you’re fine. And then, not until we talk.”
“No talking. No way. No fair.” Jillian shoved at him, struggled out of his arms, and lurched out of bed, feeling as graceful as Frankenstein’s monster. Dizziness rose in a wave, with nausea close behind it, but she choked them both down as she turned to face James. And immediately lost her breath. Did he have to look so damn sexy? He was resting on his elbow, looking at her with those intense Viking eyes. The over-long hair, the close-cropped beard, even the crinkling of hair on his broad chest gleamed gold in the amber light. She wanted him, badly, wanted to touch him and smell him and taste him. Her whole body clenched. Hard. Which only added to her aggravation.
“Jeez, will you settle down? You’re going to make yourself sick again. I only wanted you to hear my side of the story.”
She latched on to her anger as if to a life raft. “Your side? Look here, James Macleod; you have no right to ask me to listen to anything. Besides that, I can’t discuss a relationship right now. I can’t think about it, I can’t focus on it. I have no time right now to think about you and me. I’m concentrating on trying to get better—”
“Bullshit!”
“What?” She gaped at him. She hadn’t seen him move, yet he was standing in front of her, looming over her, his features as fierce as they were sexy.
“I said
bullshit
. Right now, all you’ve got is time to think. Days and days of time to think. So don’t stand there and try to tell me you haven’t been thinking about you and me. I just want to make sure you have all the facts before you decide to write me off.”
“Write
you
off? You’re the one who disappeared without a single damn word after our one and only night together.” Anger set her pacing to the other side of the small apartment, anger layered over hurt. The fact that she still hurt ticked her off even more, and she wrapped herself in fury as if it was protective armor.
“I didn’t leave without a word. I sent flowers and a card letting you know.”
“Letting me know what, exactly?” Her head was pounding and her stomach was sending warning signals, but raw emotion superseded all. “That you were too cowardly to tell me to my face that you didn’t want me?”
“That I love you.”
What? The nerve of the man. She whirled, about to tell him what he could do with such an outrageous statement. But the sudden movement was the last straw for her sensitive stomach. She paled and her knees turned to Jell-O. “Omigod—”
She retched painfully, but her stomach was long since empty. It seemed to take forever for the nausea to subside this time. When it did, her head cleared as well, and Jillian found herself kneeling over a wastebasket, supported by James’s powerful arms. She had no idea how she got there.
“Done now?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” She shivered a little, then settled back against him. “God, I’m sorry.”
“For what? I should be sorry for upsetting you, and I am. But I meant what I said. I love you.” He picked her up gently and set her on the bed. Went into the kitchen and rummaged in the fridge until he found a can of lemon pop. He brought her a tall glass of it with ice and sat beside her.
Jillian sipped the pop gratefully, but suspected it was going to take a lot more than that to revive her. She felt worn out both physically and emotionally. She really didn’t want to have this conversation right now, but they seemed to be having it just the same. It just wasn’t fair. “Look, I don’t understand at all. How can you possibly love me when you ditched me like that?”
“I admit it wasn’t my best decision. I just didn’t think I’d be very good for you.”
She was stunned. Had Birkie been right? Had protective male logic been behind James’s actions? “Well, you did make me puke twice, so maybe there’s something to that notion. Not to mention knocking me down in the hallway, scaring me to death in the loft. Oh, and breaking into my apartment. Yeah, you’re probably standing at about negative twenty on the good-for-Jillian scale.”
He had the grace to look sheepish. Standing with both hands in the pockets of his jeans, James unexpectedly reminded Jillian of a small boy who had broken a neighbor’s window. She hurried on to make her point before she lost her resolve completely. “But all that aside, you can just drop any misguided male notions about trying to protect me. It’s my damn decision to make as to whether or not I want to risk hanging around with you.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it? That’s all I get? Just ‘okay’?”
For a split second he looked blank, then he put a hand to his head. “Christ, I’m missing my cue to apologize, aren’t I? I am sorry, really,
really
sorry. Sorry for all the stupid things I did and sorry for not saying I was sorry sooner. Sorry that I’m not better at being human—I mean, I’m sorry I’m not better at relationships.”
That’s a lot of sorries.
Jillian had the feeling this man didn’t offer apologies lightly either. “I guess I’ll have to forgive you.” She offered him a smile, hoping to see an answering one but none appeared.
“So are we . . . are we back together then?”
She handed him the empty glass and sighed deeply. “That was forgiveness, James, not necessarily reinstatement. And I don’t know how we can get ‘back together’ when we hardly had more than a day’s worth of a relationship to start with.”
“You know there was more than that. A lot more. It was important from the start.”
“Maybe so, but you can’t ask me to make hugely important relationship decisions right now.”
“Why not?”
She saw something like worry flicker over his face, but she wasn’t going to make it one bit easier for him. “Duh! Because I’m tired and I’m sick. Because I might throw up again, and if you keep pressuring me, I’ll make certain I do it all over you. I’m going to have a shower, a long one. And then I’m going to bed. I want to feel a whole lot better before we continue this intense conversation. So you can damn well wait till tomorrow to discuss you and me any further.”
“Fair enough. I’ll wait.” He folded his arms. “But I’m waiting right here.”
“God, you’re pushy, Macleod.” She said it without heat, however. Instead, she ran a hand over her face and through her hair. Sighed again. It just wasn’t fair to have a bare-chested Viking right in front of her and not feel well enough to jump him. She was certain that if he was in her bed, there would be sex. Great sex. Lengthy terrific sex. But she was also certain that even brief and mediocre sex would finish her off. And besides, she hadn’t even made a decision about James yet. Not exactly. Well, not officially. Certainly not one that she was ready to share with him just yet. Oh hell, she knew what her decision was, she just wanted him to suffer a little. “Fine, take the couch.”