The Greatest Risk (9 page)

Maggie nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want to write it down and give it to me for safekeeping? Then if the time does come, I'll know and I'll look after it for you.”

Luke felt the depth of her courage, and he saw in
Billy's face a truth about Maggie that was worth more than gold. She was a woman a person could trust.

Billy nodded, relief apparent in the lines of his young face. Amazingly, he seemed happier than when they had walked in. “I'll do that today. I'm going to start right away. Thanks, Maggie. See you later, Luke.”

In the hall, Luke gazed down at Maggie, seeing her in a new light. She was rich and deep and any guy who had named his dog Stinkbomb was probably completely unworthy of her. “What you did in there was great. Thanks.”

“I was glad to help out, Luke.”

“How did you know what to say?”

“I didn't, really. I just paid attention to my intuition.”

She looked at her watch, gave a little yelp of dismay and moved away rapidly, waving over her shoulder. “I'm late! Bye, Luke.”

So nothing was changed. She still thought it was best they didn't see each other. Well, maybe she was right. She was the one with the intuition.

Because he had seen things in her eyes in that room that made him understand he was completely unworthy of her. Still, watching her move rapidly away, he wished it could be different.

But then, glancing back at Billy's room, didn't he wish all of life could be different?

 

Maggie decided it had been a dumb thing to answer Luke's call for help. Not that she regretted helping Billy. In fact, she intended to look in on the boy as often as she could. Catastrophically ill children had special challenges, including feeling guilty about the stress their ill
ness was causing others. So guilty, that they were alone with all their worst fears. She could help Billy with that, and wanted to.

But Luke… He was a different question.

She had awoken this morning with his kiss still searing her lips, a strange and wonderful song singing within her.

Despite the fact she had announced she was never going to see him again, she had felt a delicious sense of well-being this morning.

But wasn't that why she was taking the Bold and Beautiful seminar? To unlock her capacity for happiness, to move closer to having a fulfilling life? There was another B&B seminar this afternoon, and maybe that was why she had awakened this morning feeling happy and adventurous. Of course, she doubted that was the true reason, a doubt that had been confirmed when Luke called.

Then those lovely tingling feelings had escalated to something near delirium when she had recognized the sexy growl of his voice on the other end of her phone.

It was really what she had least expected. And what did it mean that he had called her about Billy?

That he trusted her, for one.

Trust was a lovely thing, of course, but a long way from what she was feeling for Luke. She had felt it again as soon as she had seen him strolling down the hospital corridor toward her, looking big and buff and self-assured.

That swooning feeling had come over her again, milder than before, thank heavens. And she had been able to block out his presence, for the most part, when she'd talked to Billy.

But afterward she had felt a familiar sensation of weakness, of wanting, and she had practically run away from him on some feeble excuse.

Now, hours later as she sat in her office, Luke August was still the strongest thing on her mind. Obviously, the decision not to see him again had been the right one, given the effect he had on her. But as the day passed, she became less certain in her conviction that she had done the right thing.

Maybe something she learned at the seminar this afternoon would help her know what to do next.

Her secretary came in and studied her thoughtfully.

“Are you okay today, Maggie?”

“Of course. What makes you ask?”

“You kind of have this goofy look on your face.”

“I do?”

“A little funny half smile, as if you know a secret.”

“Nonsense,” she said, wiping any vestiges of a smile from her face.

“And who is Luke?”

“Pardon?” she said on a gasp.

The secretary, Joy, passed her some papers she had worked on that morning. In each space where she should have written a name on a contract, only the surname was correct.

The first name she had inserted was Luke!

“Isn't that silly?” she muttered, grabbing back the papers. “I'll redo these tomorrow.”

Joy smiled at her. “I shouldn't have said you look goofy. You actually look nice. Kind of radiant. The way my cousin looked for a year or so after she got married. Have you met a guy, then?”

Maggie stammered but Joy gave her no time to reply.

“I hope you have. Nobody in this whole office ever knew what you saw in Mr. Booths, believe me. And just for the record, you didn't deserve what he did to you, but you were darned lucky he did do it to you. Imagine being married to
him
.”

She shut the door and left Maggie sitting there with her cheeks burning. No one had ever really discussed her relationship with Darnel Booths.

Or at least not in front of her.

He had been a fellow social worker. A nice guy, devoted to his work, not spectacular in any way. Maggie had been attracted to the fact he was solid and reliable. They had dated and somehow evolved into a couple. When he had asked her to marry him, she had been so excited. Planning the wedding had been so much fun.

He had not shown up at the church.

There she had stood in her long white dress waiting, along with four bridesmaids, a flower girl, a ring bearer, a best man, a hundred and three guests and a minister.

Sometimes she wondered how she had survived the embarrassment, the humiliation. Sometimes she knew she had not survived, not completely.

For a part of her had died. She had chosen Darnel partially because he had seemed like the safest of men. Predictable and ordinary, just like her.

He had called her from Mexico that night, filled with remorse, not sure what had happened. The church had been a left turn, and he had made a right. He'd gone to the airport and used one of their honeymoon tickets, boarded the flight they were supposed to be on together to the Mayan Riviera. It was cold feet with a vengeance.

He was sorry. He could never make it up to her. And no, he did not want her to join him, and no, he wasn't coming back.

From time to time she got postcards from her “predictable and ordinary man” from the snorkeling school he was now employed at in Manzanillo, Mexico. He was sorry. He was happy. He was sorry he was happy.

In retrospect, it had been a blessing. She realized now she had been more excited about planning the wedding—her perfect fairy-tale day—than she had ever been about Darnel.

The whole fiasco had been more than three years ago. Time to get over it. But somehow she knew you never quite got over something like that.

And if you couldn't trust a man like Darnel, it begged the question whom you could trust.

Luke August? That seemed unlikely. She was acting like a love-struck teen and she knew it. Doodling his name all over official documents.

Even thinking of him now and trying to fight her thoughts, only seemed to intensify them. She should seek him out, without his knowing, just look at him, study him in the light of what Darnel had done to her. That should help her take away the larger-than-life image she was carrying around.

That was what she'd do. She'd take a casual walk through his ward on her way to the Bold and Beautiful seminar.

Gathering up her purse, she said goodbye to Joy, her heart hammering in her throat as if she was being sent on a spy mission into deepest, darkest Afghanistan.

On his ward she found out through some cloak-and-
dagger work that would have done him proud, that Luke was at a physiotherapy session.

It was a perfect setup. The physio room had mirror windows into the hallway. Maggie stood there and watched.

She tried to think of Darnel.

But she could not hold the thought of Luke and another man in her mind at the same time.

Luke was dressed in a muscle shirt and shorts. His skin was absolutely gorgeous, copper silk stretched taut over well-formed muscle.

At the instructions of his therapist he was doing chin lifts on a bar.

“We've got to build the strength in your upper back before we can send you back to work. And you're not going back to work until you can pump out twenty-five of those.” Maggie listened as he was given instructions, her eyes glued on him.

His face was set in fierce lines of concentration.

She counted with him, fascinated by the play of muscle. The first few chin lifts went smoothly, almost effortlessly, not even his facial expression changing.

Then she could tell he was having to dig in, to find a little more. His brow furrowed, a sheen of fine sweat appeared on that glorious skin. His muscles corded and contracted and bunched in an amazingly masculine ballet.

At fifteen, pain entered the picture. She could see him turning inward, trying to find the place within him where a reserve of strength remained.

His eyes were closed now. His limbs were trembling. His mouth was a formidable line of pain and
determination. He was like an Olympic athlete training for his event.

It was obvious to her he was way past the limits of his strength, that his injury caused him pain, and yet he was not giving up and not letting go.

“That's enough,” the therapist said, at eighteen. “We'll try it again tomorrow.”

Luke's arms were trembling. He couldn't have one more left in him. And yet she could see him gathering himself mentally.

And then he gave a shout, pure and primal and strong. And lifted his chin up over that bar, not once more but seven more times in rapid succession.

He let go of the bar and collapsed, arms braced on his knees, sweat pouring off him, his expression calm and determined and exhausted.

“If I can impress you,” she heard him tell the therapist, “the doctor is letting me out of here.”

“Don't worry. You've impressed me. With your utter stupidity. You're in here to repair those injuries, not to strain them.”

Luke's expression remained calm, the tirade washing over him, but not touching him. He turned his head to grab a towel and wipe his brow on it.

Maggie leaped back into the shadows. Had he seen her?

She suddenly felt embarrassed. She was like a high-school girl spying on the boys' team. Of course, she'd never done that in high school, and she suddenly regretted it.

It was a delicious guilty little pleasure. Worth the risk, she decided. Because Luke liked to play it as if he
was light and lively and just a barrel of laughs. As if he was full of mischief and kisses, and nothing of substance was there.

But this morning in Billy's room she had caught a look at Luke's substance. And now she had seen it again. At the core of the man were strength and depth and determination in breathtaking abundance.

She hurried away before anyone else caught sight of her. It had been fun looking at him without it having to go anywhere. It had been like getting a fix.

But what was she going to do once he left the hospital?

She didn't want to think about it. She hurried off to her seminar.

It wasn't like her to be late, and her friend Kristen gave her a quizzical look when she slipped in the back door and took the seat Kristen had saved for her.

“What on earth have you been doing?” Kristen hissed.

“What do you mean?” she whispered back.

“You look like the cat who stole the cream.”

“I do not.”

“No, you're right. You look more like a woman who has had a wild and very naughty adventure.”

“I do?”

“Give,” Kristen said, eyeing her.

“I was just doing my homework from last time.”

“We had homework?” Kristen whispered.

“Be bold. Do something totally out of character this week.”

“Really?”

The lady in front of them turned and gave them a murderous look for chatting during Dr. Richie's presentation.

“Coffee break. I want the goods,” Kristen said out of the side of her mouth.

Considering how much she had been looking forward to this seminar, Maggie found she was having difficulty concentrating. She looked around. Sure enough, there was the man she'd seen in Morgan's last night, and there was the woman she'd seen on the front steps of the hospital.

Both of them were beaming ridiculously.

Maggie could only assume they were as satisfied with their homework as she was. She focused on Dr. Richie. He was such an appealing man. His speaking style was so warm and enthusiastic. He seemed wise and appealing and as if, for a relatively young man, he understood so much about life.

Still, even feeling as she did about him, her attention wandered.

“I want just to leave you with this preview of your homework before you go to coffee,” he said, and his words penetrated her daydream.

“Go after what you want. Erase self-doubt.”

It felt as though the words were spoken only to her. And Maggie knew exactly what she wanted, and exactly what was holding her back from it.

Self-doubt. How could Dr. Richie have known that?

She thought of that dress she had been eyeing up in Classy Lass. What had stopped her from buying it? Self-doubt.

She doubted that she was the kind of woman who could pull off a sexy dress like that. She doubted that she would have a place to wear it, or a person to wear it for.

But in the last twenty-four hours, all that had changed.

“I have to go,” she told Kristen, getting up and sidling past the knees of all the people still seated.

“Go where?” Kristen asked, flabbergasted.

“I just remembered something I have to do.” She hurried out the doors of the Healthy Living Clinic. What if the dress wasn't there anymore?