Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) (12 page)

          “Look Shiloh,
it’s not exactly like that either, but I really appreciate you letting me
crash. I owe you big time.”

          “Yeah, well,
we can settle up when you get back to civilization. I’m thinking drinks on you
for the first month of shooting.”

          “Deal.”

“And
Dean?” There was no trace of mockery in Shiloh’s voice now. “Look, I’m happy
for you. You need to get out and live a little. You’ve been in a funk for a
while. You deserve a good time. My place is your place.” Dean had to smile. He
may be an overgrown teenager, but Shiloh was a good friend, and he did have
Dean’s interest at heart. 

Dean
returned to Jane’s room with a grin. Jane however, looked worried.

“Ready
to blow this place?”

Jane’s
eyes widened. “Dean, wait.”

“What’s
wrong?”

“I
want you to tell me what is going on.”

“Sure
thing. A buddy of mine has a place here in Chicago, you can stay there as long
as you need.” Dean grinned at her. Damn, that smile could make a girl say yes
to just about anything, Jane thought. Just about.

“And
we’re just going to walk right out and go?”

“That’s
the idea. Jane, they can’t hold you here against your will if you’re healthy
and you want to leave.”

“That’s
not what I meant.” She said reasonably.

“Then
what are we waiting for? You said yourself you don’t want to be here.”

Jane
wanted nothing more than to take his hand and go with him. She wanted to race
back into his arms and let him cradle her against his warm, comforting body.
She wanted to go wherever he would take her. But she had to go on her own
terms. She would not be his burden. She looked away from him, retreating to the
wall as if for support.

“Dean,
I don’t think I can go with you.”

Dean
was floored. “Why the hell not?”

“Look
Dean, I am so grateful to you for what you did. You saved my life. And
everything since, you’ve been so generous of your time, you’ve taken such good
care of me, just everything. But, I can’t ask you for anything more. You’ve
done more than your duty by me, and I don’t want to be any further in your debt
than I already am.” She delivered the speech to a stain on the linoleum floor.
If she had to say that into those beautiful blue eyes she might actually cry.

Dean
had no response for a moment. He didn’t know how to convince her that she could
never be in his debt without telling her everything, maybe pushing her so far
away that she wouldn’t come with him anyway. But he couldn’t leave her here,
his conscience would never allow it. Neither would his heart. He’d already
fallen hard for her, but could he tell her that? No, not yet. But maybe he
could show her.

He
said nothing, but he walked purposefully up to her, placed his left hand on her
shoulder and his right hand on her waist, pushed her gently but firmly against
the wall, and kissed her deeply.

Jane’s
resolved crumbled so quickly she thought she might faint. She wrapped her right
arm around Dean’s neck, pulling his head down towards her, deeper into the
kiss. His tongue teased hers; he tasted like coffee. Her whole body responded
to his presence. She felt warm, safe, and whole but also desperate, empty, and
in terrible need. It was the most she could remember feeling at once since she
woke up in that bed three days before. She wanted it to never end.

Someone
cleared their throat in the hallway outside the room. Dean and Jane broke apart
as the magic of the moment shattered awkwardly all around them. Jane turned a
flaming pink color, Dean bit the inside of his lip to keep from grinning. He
hoped his jeans concealed his body’s swelling response.

Nurse
Harmon stood in the doorway, trying to suppress a smile. “How are you feeling
today, Jane?”

Jane
didn’t look at Dean. “Great. In fact I’ll be leaving today.”

Fifteen
minutes later Jane stood at the reception desk, gently but firmly insisting to
Nurse Harmon that she was well enough to leave. She wore the blue dress she had
worn on the day of the accident. The left sleeve had been cut away, presumably
by paramedics needing access to her broken arm. The dress had been cleaned, but
faint coppery outlines of bloodstains still remained down the left side. Dean
stood behind her, silent and unmoving as a palace guard. He knew her well
enough to recognize she didn’t need his help here, just his presence.

A
woman in red glasses arrived on the scene as Jane made her case for the third
time. Jane was relieved to see the comforting smile of Dr. Frobisher.

“What’s
all this?” she asked, taking in Jane’s clothes, the nurse’s expression, and
Dean’s presence.

“Good
morning, Dr. Frobisher, missed you yesterday.” Jane said cheerfully. “I’ve
decided to check myself out. I’m very grateful for the care I’ve received, but
now I think it’s time to leave.”

Dr.
Frobisher’s eyebrows shot up, but she appeared to consider the situation
seriously. After a moment she responded, “Well, Jane, you do have the right to
check yourself out with or against medical advice. If you’re sure that it’s for
the best.”

Nurse
Harmon’s eyes got wide, but she appeared relieved that someone else was there
to take the blame. Jane simply felt relieved someone would hear reason.

“I
really do. My memories have not returned yet, but I think I’ll recover faster
at home.”

“And
where’s home?” Dr. Frobisher asked gently. “We will need an address on file for
follow-up.”

“And
billing!” the nurse added hotly. She was not about to be blamed for a patient
who skipped out with no way to bill her.

Jane
blanched slightly at the nurse’s ejaculation, then cursed herself an idiot. Of
course if she left they’d need a billing address. She would probably be paying
off this bill for the rest of her life, assuming she recovered enough to go
back to whatever work she had been doing.

Dean
noticed Jane’s sudden trepidation. He put a hand on the small of her back and
stepped up to the counter, as if to tag in to a wrestling match. “This is the
address where she’ll be staying.” He wrote down Shiloh’s address. “You can bill
her there or at this alternate address.” He also wrote down the address of his
L.A. condo. “She can be reached by phone here for now,” writing down his own
cell phone. “Although by the end of the day there will be a more direct line.
She’ll call back with that number. Anything else?”

Jane
was stared at him for a second, speechless. Looking directly at Nurse Harmon,
Dean’s face was set with determination. When she broke his gaze to look down at
her computer screen, Dean turned his head just far enough to wink quickly at
Jane before turning back, game face on. What the hell, Jane thought. Maybe let
the hero take the lead on this one.

After
another few minutes of forms and orders, they were finally permitted to leave.
Dr. Frobisher had given Jane her direct line, with instructions to call by the
end of the day and assure her that all was still well. Jane had the sneaking
feeling that was not standard protocol for patients who checked themselves out
against medical advice, but she appreciated the doctor’s seemingly genuine
concern for her recovery.

The
sun was shining in the parking lot, and Jane almost laughed for joy looking
back at Saint Francis. Dean opened the passenger side door for her with a
comically chivalrous gesture. She grinned as she climbed in. Then they were
away.

As
they drove back into the heart of the city, the buildings got higher and the
streets got narrower. “So, this place we’re going, it belongs to a friend?” she
finally asked.

“Yeah,
my buddy Shiloh. But he won’t be there. He lives out in L.A., this is just his
vacation spot.”

Jane
raised her eyebrows as they pulled off a main street onto a quieter
neighborhood block. “Swanky place for a vacation.”

Dean
chuckled. “Yeah, Shiloh likes to live large.”

“And
you’re certain it’s alright that I stay there?”

“I’m
sure.”

          They pulled
up to a high rise a few blocks off Michigan Avenue. Dean found a fortunately
empty parking spot across the street, and they entered into a clean,
modern-looking lobby watched over by a doorman at a large marble desk.

          “Hi, I’m Dean
Everett, here as a guest of Shiloh Jones in unit 2404. He said you could let me
in. A key is waiting for me inside.” 

          The doorman
looked mistrustfully at Dean. “Yes, Mr. Jones called to say I was to let a Mr.
Everett into the apartment. He did not mention further guests.” The doorman
shot a snooty look at Jane. “All guests will need to sign in of course.”  He
produced a large, old-fashioned looking register.

          Dean calmly
wrote his name on the first available line, followed on the next by the name
Jane Everett. The doorman wasn’t there to ask questions, but Dean figured
writing Jane Doe was tantamount to inviting problems. He took Jane’s hand and
moved towards the elevator, but not before she caught the pair of names out of
the corner of her eye. She smiled at him conspiratorially.

          The three of
them rode up to the 24
^nd
floor. The doorman slowly unlocked the door
of Shiloh’s unit. “Anything else?” he said, with haughty disdain.

          “No, that’s
it, thanks very much,” Dean said good-naturedly, as if he believed the question
to be in earnest. The doorman shot one more condescending look at the pair as
he returned to the elevator.

          “Welcome
home, Jane,” Dean said, leading her through the door. He was still holding her
hand. The condo was a small but well-appointed one bedroom unit. Dean had
visited it once before, shortly after Shiloh purchased it. That time it was
barely furnished, now it looked complete. Everything was modern and sleek, the
perfect bachelor pad in dark blues and browns with pops of creamy beige. Dean
had to wonder if Shiloh hadn’t told some decorator, “You’ve got carte blanche,
but give me a place I can take chicks.”

          “This
apartment is amazing! I can really stay here?” Jane exclaimed.

          “Yes, and you
haven’t even seen the best part,” Dean said, leading her through the living
room into the cozy bedroom. A king bed took up nearly all the space, but Dean
went straight to the window and pulled back the thick, dark curtain. The view
of the city spread out below took Jane’s breath away.

She
stepped up next to Dean, leaned gently against him, and whispered, “You’re
right. It’s beautiful.”

Dean
couldn’t take his eyes from her as he answered, “Yes it is.”

Jane
looked up to meet his eye. “Dean, I don’t know what to say. I… I can never tell
you how grateful I am to you. First you save my life, then you whisk me out of
that awful place. I feel so… indebted to you. You… don’t have to do all this
for me.”

Dean
looked thoughtfully at her. “Jane, you’re not, you’re not in my debt. I… I want
to be here. And I want you to be here. Just stop thinking that way. Just be
here.” He brushed a stray bit of hair back behind her ear and planted a gentle
kiss on her neck. Jane took a rapid breath in as shivers ran up and down her
spine. This was insane. She took a step back to try to stop the room from
spinning.

“So,
now what?” she asked.

Dean
tried to regain control, to fight his carnal need for her. Pull it together, he
told himself. She just got out of that place.

He
smiled. “Good question. This is sort of as far as my big plan goes. Rescue the
damsel, the end.” 

Jane
tilted her head at him. “Okay then, hero. I assume that other door is the
bathroom. Would it be alright if I took a shower?”

Dean
tried not to think about Jane naked and covered in lather. He was not
successful. “Sure, of course. I think there’s a linen closet in the bathroom.”

Jane
helped herself to a towel and washcloth, along with a trash bag to place over
her cast. She found soap and shampoo among a dizzying array of
expensive-looking grooming products under the bathroom sink. Meanwhile Dean
poked around in the kitchen. He found some only slightly expired coffee and set
a pot to start. There was no food in the apartment. Okay, so, errands day, Dean
thought, relieved to have some semblance of a plan in his mind that did not
involve carrying Jane to the bedroom and performing various acrobatic sex acts
on her.

Dean
had just poured himself a cup and sat down at the small table when Jane emerged
from the bathroom in nothing but an espresso-colored towel. Dean was glad he
was sitting down, the sight of her made him weak in the knees and strong in
other places.

“Sorry,”
she said, embarrassed to be so scantily dressed. “I wanted to try scrubbing
those stains on my dress out a bit more, but I haven’t really got anything to
wear while I do that.”

Dean
shook himself out of his reverie. “No, that makes sense. Actually, I think
Shiloh keeps a stash of clothes in the bedroom closet for when he visits.
They’ll be men’s clothes, but he’s probably only an inch or two taller than
you. I’m sure you can find a pair of pajamas or something to wear, if you
want.”