Blue Clouds (42 page)

“Umm, I can see that.”

She leaned over and touched her mouth to his, and the world glowed with sweetness and light. To hell with headaches. Seth plunged his hand into her hair and dragged her deeper into the kiss, until their tongues entwined and he could feel the pounding of her heart in the back of her throat.

They separated and both gasped for breath at once as the door opened.

“I've brought your medicine, Mr. Wyatt,” a voice called cheerfully from the doorway. “Can you sit up this morning and bathe yourself? I've brought fresh towels.”

The LPN cast a look of surprise at Pippa. “Oh, I'm sorry. No one told me you'd spent the night, Mrs. Wyatt. Sorry if I woke you. Maybe you could help your husband bathe. The doctor ordered these pills for the headache.”

Convulsing with muffled laughter, Seth didn't dare glance in Pippa's direction. Looking as she did right now, with her hair mussed and her lips swollen from his kiss, she didn't dare deny her sudden rise in rank. “Thank you, Nurse. I think I'll have my wife help me to the shower this morning.”

He barely choked the words out with a straight face. He was certain he could hear Pippa's murderous thoughts without her uttering a word. He cherished every one of them.

After he meekly swallowed his pill and the nurse trundled out, satisfied, Seth finally lifted a challenging eyebrow in Pippa's direction. She was flushed with embarrassment. At his glance, she quickly covered her confusion.

“I'll get even,” she promised. “You're on my turf now. You don't stand got a chance.”

That was the Pippa he knew. Seth grinned. “What's the matter, Mrs. Wyatt? Afraid the name will stick?”

“Heaven forbid.” Rising, she brushed at the wrinkles in her cotton shirt, not looking at him.

She was actually wearing jeans. Seth wondered what she'd been doing when she'd come rushing over here. The memory of how he'd arrived here wiped out his amusement. “Where are my clothes? I think we'd better leave before the next person through the door is someone we don't want to see.”

“You had a concussion, your ankle will hurt like the devil, and you'll soak your bandages if you shower. You're going nowhere until the doctor sees you.” Smug satisfaction settled across her lovely features. “And no one's brought you any clothes.”

“I've hugged a viper to my breast,” Seth muttered, sitting up and gingerly sliding his bandaged foot over the edge of the bed. He glared at the wrapping, held back a moan at the complaint from his ribs, and waited for the rest of the damage to catch up with him. The hospital gown gaped at his back, but Pippa had seen a hell of a lot more of him than his back. “There has to be some store open at this hour. Call them and have them bring some clothes over.”

Without warning, the door swung open and Dirk stalked through, his dark gaze scanning the situation, registering it correctly.

“At least find his shoes, Miss Cochran,” he said dryly, without further greeting. “We wouldn't want him breaking any toes if he decides to use those weapons of his.”

“I hate early risers,” Seth grumbled at the interruption, grabbing the back of the hospital gown and limping toward the bathroom.

He ached in every muscle, but the one that ached the most had nothing whatsoever to do with the accident. A cold shower would take care of that one. He didn't know what the hell he would do about the woman causing it.

Somehow, he had to get her out of here before Pippa became still another victim in the list of disasters his life had become. It irritated the hell out of him that he couldn't pound his fickle memory into line, but he was determined to remember that voice.

Finally, he accepted the knowledge that someone was out to kill him. Now all he had to do was figure out who.

He wasn't a mystery writer but even he could assume that the person with best motive was a prime suspect.

“They'd have hired some young street punk to leach the brake line. That's probably why they picked that bar the first time. The punks there know how to do that sort of thing.” Dirk shoved his hands in his pockets as he theorized. “This time, they chose a snazzy end of town where everyone plays ‘See no evil.' No one will have noticed the kid or remembered him. Damn, I wish we had fewer people with motives, but I figure we can eliminate most of the women. They wouldn't know that bar.”

Wrapped in only a towel, still dripping as he dried his hair, Seth limped out of the shower. “Clothes, Pippa, find me some clothes. I want to get back to Chad.” He'd ripped off the wet ankle bandage.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Bossman, sir.” Instead of snapping to attention, she blatantly admired the wide masculine chest revealed above the towel. Seth Wyatt had the social skills of an orangutan but the form of a Greek god. She watched a trickle of water seep through the narrow band of dark curls on his chest, dimly aware that she'd shut him up.

At his silence, she glanced up and caught him returning her hungry look. He wanted her, but judging by his clenched jaw, he wasn't too happy about it. Throwing the uncomfortable detective an apologetic look, Pippa relented.

“All right, I'll find your clothes, but you'd better make it clear to the doctor it was against my better judgment.” She pushed out of the chair and waited expectantly for Dirk to move.

He didn't. He balled his hands up in his pockets and glanced from Pippa to Seth. “If you really want to catch this guy before he seriously hurts someone, you're better off staying here.”

Pippa froze. She knew instantly what Dirk was saying. He wanted Seth to act as bait for a trap. But Seth was in no shape for baiting traps. The man had just suffered a concussion and had been unconscious for twelve hours. He belonged in bed. She'd fully intended to bully him back to bed once they returned home.

“You don't really think the jerk will show up here?” Seth asked incredulously. “Whoever it is believes in keeping his lily-pure hands out of it. He's not likely to make a personal appearance now.”

“The way I look at it, the guy has to be desperate. He'll figure you're helpless here, and hospitals offer tons of opportunities for creative killers.”

Pippa slid into the chair as she watched the two men concoct a recipe for disaster. Except for the towel, Seth was naked. She could see the muscles rippling beneath bronzed skin. She could also see the livid bruises along his ribs where the air bag or steering wheel had punched him. Unconsciously, he favored his injured leg. She'd seen how he kicked with that leg. Normally, he could spin a sandbag with blows from that foot. He could barely stand on it now. The man was an idiot.

“Feeling suicidal this morning, are we?” she asked as Seth dropped the towel he'd used on his hair and ran his fingers through the still damp mop while he contemplated Dirk's suggestion.

Both men turned and glared at her. She glared back. “He's not Superman.” She gestured at Seth's bandaged ankle. “He's not made of steel. How in heck do you keep a desperate man from killing him?”

Seth turned to Dirk. “You'll get her out of here?”

“Oh, that does it, that really snatches the prize. I'm the nurse. I'm the one who belongs here. And you want to send
me
away? I'm the only one with any brains in this party. If you think I'll quietly disappear so some maniac can murder you in your sleep, you have more dust upstairs than my granny's attic.”

Seth's irritation defrosted slightly with a quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Your granny's attic?”

“Shut up, Seth,” she grumbled, sinking farther into the chair and crossing her arms protectively over her chest. “It's not funny.”

“Yeah, well, I haven't got time to referee this argument,” Dirk said impatiently. “You want me to send someone up here to keep an eye on things? You'll need an outside witness, if nothing else.”

Dirk had already assumed Seth was staying. He assumed right, apparently, Pippa realized as Seth made the arrangements for one of Dirk's toadies to perambulate the halls. Dirk not only assumed Seth would stay, he assumed Seth could handle the situation with no more help than a lookout.

“What do you plan to do, shoot him with a hypodermic?” she asked, interrupting their scheming. “Why don't you just let the police handle it?”

Dirk grunted and reached for the door. “I'll have someone send up clothes. You're so good with women, Wyatt, you handle her.”

“You're supposed to take her with you, dammit!” Seth shouted as Dirk headed down the corridor.

The detective apparently had a pithy reply to that. Pippa was glad she couldn't hear it. She remained where she was, plugged into the bedside chair, arms crossed, glaring at Seth in hopes he'd return to his senses. The accident must have addled what remained of his brains.

“Pippa, go home,” Seth said wearily, lowering himself to the side of the bed. “I'm not in any danger from someone who hires people to do his dirty work.”

“Yeah, you're in more danger from yourself. Get back in bed. I can hear breakfast coming. You wouldn't want the nurses to think you're better and send you home so you'd miss all the fun, would you?” she asked sarcastically. Standing, she snapped his sheets back into place and punched up his pillows.

“Pippa,” he said warningly, but breakfast arrived in the company of the cheerful LPN, and he wasn't given the opportunity to finish his sentence.

Figuring him safely occupied for the next half hour, Pippa stood up. She needed time to herself. She'd thought him nearly dead, and now here he was, asking to get killed. She didn't know why she should care. It was his damned life. He made it obvious she had no say in it. She had given him that freedom. Stupid.

Grabbing her purse, she nodded at the dresser. “I brought your pajamas and toiletries. They're in the drawer if you want them.”

She stalked out over his shout of protest. He'd have nurses in and out taking his temperature, blood pressure, filling water pitchers, and giving medicine for a while yet. If anyone wanted to kill him, they'd have to fight the staff to get at him. She had better things to do than watch other people do her job.

Standing in the corridor just outside Seth's room, watching nurses and interns in white-soled shoes hurrying about their tasks, Pippa wondered what other things she had thought she should be doing. She didn't work in a hospital anymore. She didn't have any charts to complete, any medications to dispense. She didn't belong here. She was an outsider, a visitor the staff must work around.

Even Seth didn't need her. He'd hired her to take care of Chad. That was what she should be doing now, instead of standing here worrying her stomach into a knot over a man perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

Why couldn't she be sensible and do what other women did—find a nice man at school or church, someone with whom she shared common interests, marry, settle down in the suburbs, and have 2.3 children? But no, she had to fall for abusive police officers and bestselling authors who thought she was a professional nanny. Damn.

All right, so she was a head case. She'd have to learn to deal with that. She sure as hell couldn't deal with it while panting and exchanging drool with her employer. That was a road to nowhere if she ever saw one. She'd already lost enough self-respect over her fall for Billy. She didn't need to lose the remainder as Seth's live-in convenience.

Oh, hell, that would mean leaving Chad, as well as plans for the gym, in Lillian's uncertain hands. She'd have to leave Garden Grove and Meg and the kids. She didn't want to. She didn't have much choice.

She could go down to the personnel office here and put in an application. She didn't know what it cost to live in L.A., but she wasn't ready to return to Kentucky. From here, she could visit Meg, see how the gym was progressing, hear about Chad occasionally. She didn't want to hear about Seth. That would only be rubbing salt in raw wounds. She had a feeling this wound wouldn't heal easily.

Lost in morose thoughts, she didn't pay attention to where she was going. She had some vague notion of finding something to eat, but she really wasn't hungry. Seth might think the big strong macho male tactics would save him from a murderer, but someone had nearly killed him yesterday. If Seth had been in the hills instead of on the freeway, he could still be lying out there now.

And the murderer had no way of knowing that Seth was awake and had notified the police that someone was trying to kill him. After five years of going scot-free for what he'd done to Chad, he must be feeling pretty confident. The bastard.

Finding herself just outside the nurse ‘s break room, Pippa contemplated running in, grabbing some coffee, and heading back to Seth. The surly, arrogant bastard didn't deserve her company, but he didn't deserve to die either. So, she would let him mess with her mind a little longer. He already had her damned silly heart. She didn't think she'd ever get that back. From experience, she figured she was better off without it.

“Did you see that new doctor? Isn't he a hunk?”

A nurse obviously new to the business. Pippa snorted as she turned away from the break room. Doctors ranked right up there in temperament with Seth Wyatt—steel-armored tankers and nary a hunk among them. But then, what did she know? She'd almost married Billy.