Not in Her Wildest Dreams(18)

"I don't want stitches," she argued.

"I'll hold your hand."

The persistence of the man. "I'll call Britta to come get me."

"You'd rather wait in the rain for fifteen minutes than let me drive  you?" When he said it like that, he made her sound like she was being  ridiculous.

She was being ridiculous. Groaning, she said, "Fine. Turn around."

~ * ~

Sterling drove over to Grady's long enough to let the headlights shine  on the front door, but when Paige tried to get out with him, he decided  not to check the house. Not if she wouldn't let him do it for her.  Shoot, the woman was reluctant to rely on him for something as simple as  a lift to the hospital. What would she have done if the situation had  been more serious?         

     



 

What if he hadn't been there for her to run to at all?

With her foot in her lap, she used the hem of her skirt to soak up seeping blood, drawing air through her teeth as she did.

"You should report that break in. Especially if Rosie is likely to come home."

"Yeah." She had left his cell phone in the console between them and  reached for it. "It's not exactly an emergency, though. Maybe I can  catch Cam at The Mill."

"You know the number?"

"Dad and Lyle live there," she pointed out.

And didn't that say everything he needed to know about her reluctance to  rely on anyone. He didn't know much about her Mom, took a moment to  wonder.

"It's Paige," he heard her say after asking for Cam. "I know you're off  duty, but there was a break in at the house. Dad's, yeah. No, I'm okay.  Well, sort of. I cut my foot and Sterling's taking me to the hospital-  No, it doesn't need stitches!" She paused. "At the back. The doors off  the deck. I'm worried about Rosie coming home. Okay. I'll be back as  soon as I get patched up. Thanks, Cam. Is Brit still there? Tell her I'm  okay, but I don't have my phone. I'll call her later." She dropped the  phone back into the console. "He's going to have someone on duty drop  by."

Sterling nodded and a few minutes later pulled into the hospital parking  lot near the emergency doors. By the time he had come around to her  side, Paige was trying to slide onto the ground.

"You're going to drive the glass deeper into your foot."

It made her nuts, having to accept his help, he could tell. But after a  hiss of breath aimed at the sky, she let him swing her into his arms. He  tossed her a bit to hike her higher against his chest. It felt good to  hold a woman, even one who kept herself all stiff and unyielding. Her  fine hair lifted to tickle the side of his jaw and he didn't even care  that he didn't have a free hand to brush it away.

"I'm guessing you don't indulge in rescue fantasies," he said, walking into the hospital.

"Ha. No. You?"

"‘Course not. But listen, when we get inside, call me Clark."

He felt her surprised chuckle. She relaxed into him. He tightened his grip, pleased.

An orderly brought a wheelchair as they came through the automatic  doors, and provided an absorbent paper pad for Paige to rest her feet  on. Then the admission clerk took a history of her allergies, blood  sugar levels and susceptibility to critical frustration when pestered  with stupid questions. How about a bandage people?

Sterling went outside to move the vehicle from the emergency lot and  came back to find Paige gone. A nurse led him through the stuffy,  over-warm maze of curtained beds and flicked one back to show Paige  curled on her side, looking bored. She had blue paper pads wrapped  loosely around her feet and was toying with a pendant on a chain around  her neck.

"How long until you see someone?"

"I thought you left."

"Of course you did. I just moved the SUV."

"You don't have to stay."

"How will you get home if I don't?"

"I can call Brit. Or her dad. Olinda, maybe."

"Or I could act like a decent human being and stay. Your mom's not on the list?"

"Doesn't have a car. Speaking of moms, yours told you not to be late for dinner."

He picked up a chair and moved it closer. "Is that a shot, or are you genuinely concerned about my hot meal intake?"

"Hey, I can't tell you how many turkeys I've roasted that no one ate.  When I cook and no one shows, I get cranky. You should go."

It was amazing how uncomfortable she was. He should probably give up  trying, but couldn't. Not when sparring with her was so much fun.

"My mom's more forgiving than you are. I already called and she's fine."

"You told her where you were?"

He held her gaze, refusing to apologize for putting off the full  explanation. "I told her I had to drive someone to the hospital. I'll  give a more detailed account when I get home."

Her lashes swept down, hiding her reaction but her mouth went soft with consternation.

He sat down on the chair.

Paige bunched the stiff pillow and sighed, like she was trying to make  herself more comfortable. Her husband must have woken up a thousand  times to see her arm curved under her pillow like that.

"What happened to your marriage?"

She blinked, surprised. He was a little stunned himself. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Her fingers curled around the pendant she wore. "What's that?" She nodded at the magazine in his hand.         

     



 

"Nice coping strategy. Don't like the question? Pretend it wasn't asked."

"I see you're adopting it."

"I don't have a problem with questions." He held up the technical manual  he'd taken from his father's office this afternoon, before he and his  father had blown up at each other. "This is light reading for while we  wait. I know you've been dying to learn about cycle rates on lathes."

"Mmm. Growing up with Lyle, I hardly ever got to hear about manly things like industrial tooling."

"And here I was looking forward to initiating a virgin." Oops. He hadn't  meant to go there. An apology rose in his throat as a blush burst under  her skin. It wasn't the flush of humiliation, though. It was  self-conscious awareness, quickly hidden with lowered lashes.

If he hadn't been face to face with her, he might have missed the subtle  difference, might have thought she had been offended instead of  learning she was as tuned to him as he was to her.

And wasn't that interesting.

She dropped the pendant, which turned out to be a ring, and adjusted the pillow beneath her head.

"Whose ring is that?" It looked familiar.

"Dad's. He had to take it off when he was admitted. I put it on this  chain I was already wearing so we wouldn't lose it. It has an  inscription." She gave him a look, kind of tentative, but inquisitive.  "He's worn it for as long as I can remember and I've never asked where  he got it, but it's from S.E. With love. That's not my mom or Olinda.  Know anyone in town with those initials?"

"Not off the top of my head." He leaned forward and picked it up, angling it so he could read.

She drew a little intake of breath. He thought she might be holding it.  Then she licked her lips and they were right there, the angle perfect if  he leaned forward a little more.

"Someone passing through do you think?" she asked thinly.

"What?" Not thinking at all over here, not really. Those lips were so  flawless in their shape, so soft looking. Full enough to compensate for  his clumsy efforts years ago and probably knowledgeable enough now to  make things deliciously fantastic. God, he could still recall exactly  how it had felt to kiss her. Electricity had thrummed through his whole  body.

"The initials," she prompted.

He rolled the ring so he could see them again, used it as an excuse to lean closer.

"Your mother doesn't know?" he murmured. Grady had always been a  notorious tomcat. There was a reason Paige's mother had left him and  that reason probably had these initials.

She breathed a little laugh that warmed his jaw. "She said it stands for, ‘Somebody Else.'"

"Ah." He would have grinned, but his mouth wouldn't hold the smile. He just wanted a brief taste-

The curtain jerked back with a clatter of metal hooks.

Sterling dropped the ring and sat back, only realizing as he felt the chair against his spine how far he'd almost gone.

Paige rolled to lie face up.

The doctor, a tall, white-haired, Ted Danson type, peered over square glasses balanced on his nose.

"Don't look so embarrassed. I've walked in on worse. Had a coitus  interruptus just last year. A young man with a broken ankle and a long  wait for x-rays. Saw the young lady again nine months later, no word of a  lie."

"I walked in on one last year, too," Paige said. "My husband and the  divorcee from down the hall. They're expecting a girl this Christmas."  She shot a tight smile at Sterling. "Questions don't scare me. It's the  answers that put me off."

Oh, Paige.

The doctor lowered his smirk to consult his chart. "Paige, I'm Dr. Braidwood. And you have a cut foot. Let's have a look."