Falling From Grace (2 page)

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Her head was spinning like a top. Dani groaned and tried to roll from the bed but her body wasn’t cooperating. Her limbs felt pumped full of lidocaine, stiff and numb.
What day was it? What happened? Her brain wasn’t functioning either. Someone stirred beside her and she swallowed a gargled protest as she tried to push the fumbling hands away from her. She didn’t want this. She didn’t even know who was in her bed. Everything had spun out of control
again
. She’d only planned to have one drink but one had turned into…she’d lost count. And now, there was a horny stranger in her bed, hoping to get more. Bile rose in her throat and she managed to roll to the side with a sluggish movement so she didn’t choke on her puke.

“Don’t be such a tease,” a male voice said at her back, sleepy and possibly still drunk. “That fine ass haunted my dreams, baby.”

“Don’t touch me,” she mumbled, pushing at him, hoping he’d get offended and just leave. When he failed to budge, she managed to yell, “Get out, will you?” And at that his vision cleared and his gaze narrowed.

“Hey, that’s no way to treat the guy who brought your drunk ass home,” he said,
jerking her to him. Her eyesight refused to focus and she had the horrifying sense that she’d been drugged last night. He tugged at her shirt, ripping the flimsy material with one jerk, exposing her breasts. She tried to cover herself but her arms were stupidly sluggish. Fear and panic gave her an additional surge of strength and she shoved against the man grabbing at her tits and trying to climb on top of her. “Nothing’s for free, baby, I was too drunk last night but I’m good to go now. Time to pay up.” His body landed on hers, squeezing the air from her lungs. He caught her flailing, rubbery arms with a cruel laugh, saying as he nuzzled her neck, “What’s with the fuss? I heard you like it like this, party girl. Well, you’re in luck, I like it rough and dirty, too.”

“Stop it!” She struggled against the heavy bulk of the man’s body, fighting tears as she realized she was going to be raped in her own bed.
“Please! Stop!
God, help me
!” The last part came out as a tortured gasp as black dots swam before her eyes. She was going to pass out and then there would be nothing stopping this asshole from raping her. Just as she started to lose her grip on reality, the man was jerked off of her and thrown to the ground with a loud
whump
. She sucked in a big, deep breath, heaving as her tortured lungs screamed for air and it took several gasping draws before she realized there was another man in the room, beating the shit out of her attacker. She rubbed her eyes and lumbered across the bed to get away from the struggling men. Grunts of pain and the sound of balled fists smashing into flesh filled her bedroom and she wasn’t above hoping her would-be rapist suffered a few broken bones for what he’d tried to do to her. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus as she clutched the pillow to her chest in fear as the two men grappled, knocking over shit as they fought. She didn’t know if she was going from the frying pan to the fire but she had to take her chances. The man landed a final kick to her attacker’s gut and then he hauled the son-of-a-bitch to his feet, dragging him from the bedroom. “Get the fuck out, you piece of shit before I call the cops and have you arrested for attempted rape,” he yelled as the injured man scrambled, half stumbling, half-running, out of her house. The man was breathing hard and his hands were still clenched, knuckles bleeding as he turned to her with a hard look to ask, “Are you okay?” Even though she wasn’t quite able to focus all the way, she recognized that angular jaw and sensual lips — that face haunted her dreams with frightening regularity — and she fell back against the bed in shock.

“Miles?” she could barely manage the
name but her heart leapt at seeing him again when she’d thought for sure she never would. “Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me, l
ucky for you, your front door was unlocked.” He paused a minute then said, “You have shitty taste in friends.”

“He wasn’t my friend,” she muttered, heat crawling into her cheeks. “I think he gave me a ride home but then thought he’d take payment by raping me.”

Miles grunted as if her answer meant nothing to him and she winced, hating that he was seeing her like this. She might not remember the details of last night but she recalled with crystal clarity the last time she’d seen Miles Lassiter and not a day went by that she didn’t regret turning him loose the way she did. She tried to stand and wobbled, her knees going out. Miles caught her in his arms and she tried not to sink into his touch. This felt like home. Tears burned her eyes and she had to sniff them back before she further embarrassed herself. “I’m sorry…I think that asshole drugged me,” she admitted, her mouth tasting like she’d licked mud and followed it with a gasoline chaser. “My eyesight is wonky and I’m so weak.”

She supposed it was good luck that Miles was a doctor, but she’d hoped that if their paths crossed again, it wouldn’t be like this.
Miles hoisted her into his arms and carried her to the living room where he deposited her on the soft chair by the fireplace with surprisingly gentle touch. “Stay right here,” he ordered before disappearing out the front door, only to reappear a short moment later carrying a black satchel.

A silly grin found her lips
, not because the situation was appropriate but because a part of her was so grateful he’d walked through her door to save her and she was too disoriented to smother her honest reaction. “You do house calls? Is that a doctor bag, like in the old movies?”

He scowled, not finding the situation humorous at all. “Be thankful I brought my
it, it’s saving you an embarrassing trip to the hospital,” he said, causing her smile to fade. He wasted little time in checking her blood pressure, and then her pupil dilation. When he pulled away, there was a grim expression souring his handsome face. “Without a blood test it’s impossible to know with 100 percent certainty that you weren’t drugged but your pupils aren’t dilated and you’re not vomiting so I’m willing to guess you’re suffering from a terrible hangover. What were you drinking last night?”

“A little of this, a little of that,” she answered mulishly when it w
as clear how little respect he had for her. Could she blame him? In another life she wouldn’t have respected someone like her either. An internal groan born of misery and regret threatened to bubble from her mouth but she held it back only because she couldn’t stand sinking another notch in Miles eyes. Realizing he was still waiting for a more definitive answer, she admitted with a small shrug. “I don’t know I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“You weren’t paying attention? A little reckless don’t you think?”

“Given the fact that I was assaulted, I guess I don’t have much room to disagree, now do I?” She cast him a short look before glancing away. Was he really going to rub her nose in it like a bad puppy who’d piddled on the carpet? “Does it matter? I got drunk. End of story.”

“It would help if I knew what I was dealing with. Can you be a little more specific?”

She made an exasperated noise. “No…one drink was purple, another pink. Does that help?”

“No, it doesn’t.” He tucked his pen light back into his bag and took out his stethoscope. Without trying to warm up his instrument, he placed it on her bare skin, causing her to yelp at the cold metal. He continued without mercy. “You could’ve gotten a touch of alcohol poisoning. You’re lucky you woke up at all.”

“Is that Dr. Lassiter’s medical opinion or judgment from Miles?” she asked.

“How about a little of both?” he countered flatly. “Now be quiet,” he instructed as he focused on her heartbeat. Satisfied, he removed the scope and put it awa
y, too. “Heartbeat sounds good.” She braced herself for some catty comment about her heart — as in, she didn’t have one — but he remained professional, if not a bit taciturn. “Well, if you can’t provide me with more details of your night, I’ll just have to go off what I see and to me, you seem terribly hung over and likely, dehydrated.”

Her previous elation at seeing Miles again
had since died under the weight of the reality between them and she pulled herself into a defensive posture, affecting a bored expression. She wasn’t in the mood for whatever Miles thought he had the right to say to her just because he showed up at the right time. “So, not that I’m not grateful for the whole hero routine but what are you doing here? And how the hell did you know where I lived?” Miles rocked back on his heels with open distaste and she secretly mourned the loss of his love. There’d been a time when he’d looked at her with such adoration that she’d almost bought into the fantasy that true love existed. She rubbed absently at her chest as an errant pain zinged across her nerves. It wasn’t because she missed Miles and seeing him again was more hurtful than she’d imagined it would be, no, that wasn’t it. It was probably trapped gas, right? She met his deep blue gaze and asked quietly, “Miles, what are you doing here?”

He stood and his mouth compressed in a tight line as he answered with a resolute shake of his head
as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to say, and said, “I’m here to help you clean up your act.”

#

Even hung over, auburn hair limp and abused, Dani was beautiful. He tried not to focus on the details that were unimportant, such as the softness of her skin and the sweet curve of her hip and waist but it was too easy to remember in startling detail how he’d spent many hours worshiping that body, loving her soft, little mewling cries when he touched her just right, and how she’d left scratches on his back when she couldn’t help herself in the moment. It was easier to forget those kinds of details when he was hundreds of miles away, basking in the Caribbean sun — not so much when he was standing close enough to smell her skin.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Miles,” she said, stung. “And even if I did, you would be the last person I’d want for the job.”

“Too bad. I’m all you’ve got.”

“Is that so? I don’t see the connection as to why you would even care.”

“You want my honesty?” At her slow nod, he launched into it. “You’re right — I don’t care about you or your fucked up sense of priority. What I do care about is my friend and apparently, making sure you’re insurable is the ticket to my friend’s happiness right now and because I owe her big time, I’m babysitting you into sobriety, at least long enough to get you cleaned up and presentable to the people who think you’re too much of a train wreck to insure you.”

Dani blinked as if he’d slapped her with brass knuckles. “What are you talking about?”

He exhaled in irritation. “Don’t you even know what’s being said about you in common circles? You’re toxic out there, babe. You went from top of the world, to bottom of the trash bucket in a relatively short amount of time. That’s talent, sweetheart. But even so, there’s someone out there who still believes you have what it takes to be someone other than yesterday’s news. I don’t necessarily agree with them but hey, it’s not my dime.”

“You’re lying,” she said, paling. “Everyone wants me on their next project.”

“Really? What kind of offers are banging down your door? How many missed auditions have there been? How many times has your agent said, ‘they went in another direction’ for parts that you thought were a shoe-in? Pull your inflated head out of your ass and start smelling what’s right beneath your nose.” For the first time since walking through that door, Miles caught the vulnerable youth of the girl she’d once been and he found himself softening, if just a little, because hell, he wasn’t a total prick. He drew a deep breath and tried again. “Listen, there’s this director who really wants you to play the part of Hattie in the film adaptation of
Falling From Grace
and for what it’s worth…I think you’d do the role justice.”

Dani wiped her eyes and stared up at him. “Really? You’ve read the script?”

“No, but I’ve read the book and it’s a part that you could play…if you got your shit together. It’s up to you. Get yourself clean and possibly play the role of a lifetime, or keep doing this stupid crap with people who don’t give two shits about you and watch your entire life go down in flames. Your choice.”

She sniffed back tears and wiped at her eyes, remaining silent, fidgeting with her fingers as she contemplated what he’d told her. “Who is your friend?”
she asked in a small voice that betrayed her. Good God, was it even possible that Dani was jealous? Dani looked up, waiting. “I mean, she must be a pretty good friend for you to go to all this trouble.”

“
Yeah, she is.”

“Do I know her?”

“You probably know
of
her. It’s Lindy Bell.”

Dani’s
eyes widened in recognition as she gaped a little. “You know Lindy Bell? The same Lindy Bell who played Sarasota in the Broadway play, Secrets and Lies?”

“Yeah…and she’s a good friend, so I’m doing this for
her
. I want to make sure we’re clear.”

Her expression soured and she said, “Right, because you hate me. I get it.”

“I don’t hate you,” he disagreed, but there was probably a thin line he was walking in that regard. “But I sure as hell don’t like you very much, that’s for sure. Do you blame me? You did me dirty and you know it so let’s not try and play the victim. Save your acting skills for the screen because it’s a waste of time on me.”