His Lady Godiva (Lovers and Other Strangers) (3 page)

“That would have been Allyn. As usual right on time!”

Michael could barely hear what she was saying over the pounding in his heart. She wasn’t married! He wanted to do some god awful dance if he could have. Oh Christ! Now he was going to have to cut her open. His heart sank. Orthopedic surgery was a nasty brutal thing. To straighten her spine he was going to have to cut her hip open and chisel out a good size chunk of bone. Then he was going to have to cut open her back from well above her waist to the top of her ass. Then he was going to have to screw the bone into the spine itself with large Titanium screws that would be supplemented with tie rods for lack of a better term.

Oh God, now he understood the rules about doctors not treating family and loved ones in a way he had never really thought about. But that was absurd, it wasn’t as though he could be in love with Violet Bellows. They had only spoken a handful of times and one of those he’d been yelling at her and she at him. She was just very beautiful and that was what swayed his thoughts. Once she was draped for surgery she would look like every other patient. He would just have to do a better job for her than anyone else could.

Where were those screams coming from? Those weren’t pain, that sounded more like terror. He had been at the hospital since coming in for the Bellows surgery. That was almost thirty-six hours ago. This storm was supposedly going to last at least another two days. There was already almost three feet of snow on the ground. With the wind howling, drifts had made it impossible for the snowplows to get through some roads. Police were bringing people in since some of the ambulances were stuck. It was a nightmare. All surgeries were cancelled, except for life threatening conditions. He was stuck here but those screams had woken him from his sleep.

Where were they coming from? Finally he found the source. Oh, please no, he thought to himself, not his shy Violet.

He entered her room and her distress was palpable. Her eyes were wild with terror not just pain. He moved to her bed.

“Violet! Tell me what is wrong!

“The storm! We’ll be killed in the storm!” They were 15 floors up and here the wind was screaming at the windows, sounding more like a jet engine than a snow storm. Some fool had left her drapes open. He rolled to the window and closed the drapes. That helped decrease the noise and blocked out the visual effect of the storm. Both of these seemed to lessen her terror. He pulled out his phone and punched up the music app. In seconds he had found what he was looking for. “Violetta, Listen to your opera.” The overture of La Traviata began. He went back to her bed and lay the phone down on it. He took her hands in his. They were shaking and felt like ice.

“It hurts so much!” She was still terrified and in pain. Where was the damn button for the morphine pump. He searched in her blankets, finally finding it and repeatedly pressing it.

“There now that will help.” He was desperate to do more. Her hair had been braided back for the surgery though in her distress some of the curls had come free. He smoothed her forehead and moved the hair out of her face. She still seemed to be looking at him without seeing. “Should I tell you the story of your opera.” She blinked in response, which he took as a yes. He whispered in her ear. “Violetta was the most beautiful woman of her age. No man could look at her and not want her.” Violet closed her eyes at his words and the soft whispers at her ear. The morphine helped to ease the pain and the story gave her something to focus on. Her handsome doctor was holding her hand. She could feel his warm breath on her fingers. She turned her face to his and he smiled. She was coming back to herself. Without thinking he started kissing her fingers. If this was the reward for enduring the pain she would take it. The music was so beautiful, his words in her ear were like poetry. The morphine dulled the pain but did not entirely remove it. It did lower her inhibitions enough to ask “Kiss me.” Michael stopped the story and looked into her eyes.

Had she read his mind, but then he wanted to do much more than kiss her. While he had been whispering the opera in her ear he was fixated on the sliver of her creamy white shoulder that the johnny coat left exposed. He desperately want to taste her plump, rosy lips, slide his tongue past them to hers, explore the hard edges of her teeth. No, it would not be right! She was his patient. She was in the grip of pain and on drugs that lessen one’s grip on reality. But, but... That slice of shoulder tantalized him. He inched forward, barely moving. All he had to do was drop his head and brush his lips just there at the edge of the gown. His body seemed to have a will of its own and without thought did exactly that.

Violet saw his eyes close. He craned his neck slightly and brushed his lips across her shoulder. She closed her eyes and warmth flooded her body, a better balm for her pain than any drug. If this slight touch from his lips could melt her what would real passion from him feel like. Her breath caught in her throat like a sob. She let her body melt into his touch, letting the thrill of it drive the fear and the pain away. Then she moaned and he broke the contact. The pain came flooding back worse than before.

“No!, don’t stop, it is the only thing that helps.” she cried, her eyes wild with torment.

“It is... It's not right. You are my patient. I must respect the bounds of propriety.” He felt miserable saying it.

“I don’t care... is there somewhere you can kiss me? Please! I need to lose myself in something beautiful, other than all this pain.” Her voice was starting to keen like the wind outside. Michael didn’t care if they took his license. He would do anything to bring her some relief. He looked at her hand in his. Turned it as if just realizing that he was holding such an exquisite object. He placed one of the fingertips against his lips. She stilled and seemed to stop breathing, watching him with wide eyed fascination. He kissed each fingertip in turn and then turned her hand palm up. Michael whispered to her, his mother used to do this to soothe him as a child and began to lightly caress her palm with one of his fingers. Drawing them down the center made her warm. She looked at him with such, devotion but that didn’t make any sense. It didn’t matter to him right now. All he knew was he would stay here till she made it through the storm.

Violet closed her eyes and willed her breath to slow. His light tracings on her palm were sending waves of pleasure through her body, warm liquid relief. The tracing stopped but he still held her hand, she would scream if he let go. He must think she is asleep. This feeling was the opposite of sleep, which brought peace. In this state every nerve ending was on edge, all her senses focused on one spot. Through her lashes she watched him bend his head to her palm, with the slightest touch he kissed it. When she didn’t stir, he kissed more deeply. She moaned at this intimate gesture. He wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. He pulled back from her hand and she continued to feign sleep. Once he was convinced that she had not woken he continued the kisses on her palm. Violet thought she would burst from desire but she did not want to scare her dear sad doctor. Her breath deepened and she curled her fingers just slightly to caress his face while he kissed her palm. The fine points of his beard tantalizing her fingertips. She wanted more than him just kissing her hand. Slowly, so slowly he almost didn’t notice the movement she drew her hand to her collar bone. When it got there he stopped the kisses. She could feel his eyes on her.

“Are you my shy Violet or Violetta right now?” he whispered. She felt her mouth purse and the corners curl in the barest of smiles. She could be anything for him. She could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched hers but when they did Violet felt bathed in light. She allowed herself the smallest of peeks to see if the wonderful feeling really was coming from him. She imagined that if sleeping beauty were real this is what she would have felt like. This was maddening, how could she kiss him back if she were supposed to be asleep but if she “woke up” now he would bolt, she was sure of it. She fought to keep her breathing deep and even when she wanted to pant. Eventually she let her jaw go slack just a little. Would he try to deepen the kiss, please! her mind screamed. The kiss stopped. She wanted to cry and missed the taste of him already. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and opened her eyes. There not 3 inches from her face was Dr. Dennison. Her eyes fluttered in shock that she hoped he would read as waking up.

“You are quite beautiful but a truly lousy actress.”

“I... Wha... Oh, hell.” Then a bolt of pain tore through her body. “Oh God!”

“Violet! Oh damn the morphine pump!” Michael raced to where he had been holding the button and started pressing it repeatedly. “Hang in there, it will work quickly. “Damn I forgot the thing needs to be pressed every 30 seconds.” He continued to press the button in time. Violet lay back waiting for the drug to wash over her but the wait seemed endless. In her pain she heard Michael’s voice and felt her hand in his.

“Violet, listen to me.” He whispered in her ear, his words like some ancient incantation, “Close your eyes.” She did as he asked “I want you to move the pain. Imagine it is a bright light, put all of the pain in that light. Now, pour the light in to my hand. Pass the pain to me.”

Her eyes flew open. “No... I could never cause you this much pain!” she cried. He held her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Okay, make the light into a ball and pass the ball to me and I will throw it away.” With that he moved his hand so that just their finger tips were touching with space for the ball of light in the middle. Violet could feel it! She could feel all of the pain joining together into a single ball of light. She imagined the pain moving up her core to her heart. There she added some of the love she felt for this good caring man and sent it down her arm. She felt her hand grow warm in his, felt her palm burn. Then she felt his hand move away and the heat and the pain were gone. When she looked over at him he was smiling down at her and had taken her hands in his while he continued to push the morphine pump button.

“You are a mystic.” she said drowsily.

“No, it is just a visualization technique for pain control.” Now he was stroking her forehead and it was wonderful. “I will stay here and keep pressing the button so you can get some sleep. Please sleep, it will do you good.”

“mmm... Magic” and she drifted off in a drugged slumber.

Two hours later, Violet’s eye flashed open as the pain increased. She looked down and saw that Michael had fallen asleep with his head on her bed. He was still clutching the morphine pump button. She uncurled his fingers the way you would a sleepy child’s and took it from him. She continued to press the button herself while she stroked his hair. It was like silk in her fingers. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like to lay in bed holding him after they had made love. Hmm, she supposed, depending on where he was paralyzed he may not be able to do some things. No matter, he could still give and receive pleasure of some kind and that is a kind of “making love.” Even though the morphine didn’t remove the pain it did make it manageable so she could lay here and actually enjoy this moment of contentment. It was not great passion, blinding lust, or even earth shaking orgasm but this felt rarer somehow. Contentment is such a fragile quiet thing that it can go unrecognized until it isn’t there anymore. Violet watched his back lift with each breath. She stroked his jaw lightly and felt his beard play against her finger tips. Yes, she wanted him, his kisses made her melt but it was more than that. How could she be falling in love with someone she barely knew? But there was no doubt that she was indeed falling in love. She let him sleep for another hour, he needed it. When she woke him she whispered his name and tickled his ear. He woke up slowly but when he opened his eyes and saw her he smiled even though he wasn’t fully awake. That small unguarded moment was precious to her.

“Hey, sleepy head, you need to get up soon. I don’t want you to get in trouble for being in here sleeping.” She saw his guard come up as he pushed up from the bed.

“What time is it?”

“About 5:30 in the morning, the storm is still blowing.”

“Damn, I was trying to stay awake to keep your morphine pump going.”

“I know, it was fine. Just having you lying here was good medicine.” He stretched and rubbed his eyes.

“I need to get out of here or there will be hell to pay. I have to go get cleaned up and do rounds with the residents in an hour or two. I’ll see you then...um, you know last night has to be our secret right?” Violet put her most devilish grin on.

“I think there are definite blackmail possibilities here. Hmm, should I go for better food or... I know! If the storm is still raging tonight then you have to come back here after you are done and we can talk for a while and the rest of the time, you can give me your very particular kind of healing.” She put her hand over her mouth. Part of her could not believe she had just propositioned a man even if it was just for some kisses. She stopped thinking she was so cute when she saw the look on his face. “Hey, I was kidding. I would just like some company. I...” Oh god, don’t start crying Violet, do not let yourself cry!

Michael reared back at what she had said. Her words hit him like cold water. Why? She was being cute and flirty even if she was slurring her words a little because of the Morphine. Was it that he realized they had spent the night either kissing or doing other non-sexual but still none the less intimate things. He had always held himself to higher standards than everyone else. Actually he felt like he had to, had to prove he was better so people could forget he was stuck in the damn chair. Here was someone who didn’t even look at the chair but only saw him and he was terrified. Was this terror? His heart was racing, his pulse pounded, his breathing was quick and shallow, either he was afraid or...aroused. But that couldn’t be possible it had to be fear. He was just afraid that eventually she’d want...him?

“Violet, sorry, I need a cup of coffee before I can be held responsible for anything I say.” He felt like a liar though it was mostly true. “I’ll come by after I get done, I promise.” She still looked like she was going to burst into tears. He felt like such an ass! “Hey, if you play your cards right I’ll raid the gift shop for chocolate.” He smiled up at her all the while silently begging that she’d smile back. When she did he thought he would yell for joy. “Okay, remember keep pushing the button. I’ll come around with the residents in a while. We are going to get you out of that bed today!” Violet blanched. “Don’t worry I promise it will be okay, I have done this with more than a hundred other patients. I am also going to put in an order for a sponge bath. Trust me it doesn’t sound like a big deal but I have had patients tell me it is worth the pain of the surgery.” She was staring at him with her mouth open. “Really! I’m serious! I need to get going and get ready. Bye” And with out thinking he kissed her hand. Violet didn’t make a sound till she was sure he wasn’t in earshot, then she let out a whoop. Then she started laughing, she would bet he didn’t even realize he’d kissed her.