Dark Kiss (The Two sides of me Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter 12

“Hips Don’t Lie” by Shakira

A woman from the legal department of the hospital comes to Evans room. I really would have liked to have a lawyer of my own go over this paperwork before I sign anything, but a sense of urgency has been sparked under everyone involved in orchestrating Evan’s discharge and I feel pressured to not hold up the operation. Paperwork completed, we load Evan into the ambulance and head home, well home for him at least. Riding in the back of a cramped ambulance with Evan is like being in a microwave, with electromagnetic radiation, 300 GHz zapping through the air, crackling between us. When the doors are closed he reaches out for my hand.

“Are you afraid Mr. Lawson?” I tease.

“No I’m not, but maybe you should be.” One corner of his mouth pulls up slightly in quite possibly the sexiest smirk ever given, and my core melts from the blazing heat in his eyes. I squirm on the bench across from him, why does he do this to me? I can see in his expression that he enjoys toying with me and purposely making me blush red-hot from my toes to the tip of every hair follicle if that were possible. “Why do you resist me Mia, haven’t I proven myself to you? There isn’t one thing I haven’t gotten that I wanted in the short time we have been acquainted, and surely you know that I want you for so much more than your nursing skills, although those will come in handy at some point as well, a bonus if you will.” Bonus…a bonus- what exactly is he talking about? My head is spinning and I actually feel faint. As in foggy around the edges of my vision and my hearing fading in and out alarmingly. He tugs on my hand and through the sparkles in my vision I see his face change from smoldering smirk to concern. “Mia.” His brow is wrinkled with worry and he’s saying my name as if he were trying to shake me from a bad dream, loud and abrupt with authority and demanding my focus and attention. “Mia, breathe; fuck you’re going to pass out if you don’t take deep breaths.” He drops my hand, reaching up to wrap it around the back of my neck and shoves my head between my legs.

“I’m ok, I’m ok. Really, let me go, it’s just close in here and I’m a little dizzy.” I try to sit up, with no success; his one arm is so strong that he can hold me captive with little or no effort, even strapped into a gurney with broken leg. Any other time, with any other person, I would have gone ballistic in a full-on panic attack if a man was holding me against my will, but once again I feel it in the finest fiber of my being that he would never hurt me.

“Stay down until you’re sure,” he orders and I do, inhaling deep breaths for a few moments until he’s confident that I’ll be all right.

“I think I’m ok now, please let me go,” I squeak from between my legs and he releases me immediately.

“What was
that,
you’re supposed to be nursing me back to health, not passing out from a little flirting!” he exclaimed.  God, could I possibly be anymore embarrassed? Yea probably. “I told you, it’s hot in here the circulation is terrible. And…you shouldn’t flirt with the help, you’re paying me remember?”

“Yes I certainly am, a lot, and I can’t have you fainting when I smile at you. I know I’m irresistible but Mia you’re going to have to toughen up. I really happen to favor you and I wouldn’t want to see that pretty head of yours injured. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not in any condition to see to it that you land in my arms and not on the metal floor of this ambulance.” Well that was unexpected, infuriating and flattering all at the same time. Toughen up, I’ll show him tough, and obviously I would never expect him to catch me falling, what an ass.
I know I’m irresistible
, really? Screw you Mr. Conceited, I need to turn this back around to me being in control, and fast! Straightening up and leaning away from the unexplainable intoxication surrounding him, I gather myself. “Mr. Lawson, you are one cocky son of a bitch, and I will
never
require you to prevent me from falling, you will refrain from flirting with me. We have a professional relationship when I am your nurse and you will do well to file that bit of information away for future reference,” I snap…so shove that in your pipe and smoke it HA! I can’t believe I just told the most beautiful man in the universe he was a cocky son of a bitch. Shit, I hope I didn’t push him too far, but thankfully and much to my surprise, he throws his head back and roars with laughter.

“Oh nurse Mia, your quick, smart mouth slays me- no one speaks to me that way…no one, in fact I hope the driver didn’t hear that. I have a reputation to uphold as a cocky son of a bitch you know!”

I have no idea what to do with that remark, and I’m more than a little happy to feel the ambulance pull to a halt. Shit, I’m glad were getting out of this fucking box. I should have followed in my own car. The ambulance driver swings open the doors and light floods into the cab, unusually sunny for a fall day in Seattle, but I love the warmth on my face. Hopping out, I’m stunned by the beauty of the grounds surrounding Evans house, no “house” doesn’t even come close to describing this place- it actually looks very much like a castle, with two stone towers on either side of a grand, purple-colored double front door that opens instantly when we begin unloading the stretcher. A man about 10 years older than Evan strides toward us with a tight expression, obviously all business.

“Mr. Saint,” he introduces himself to me curtly. “You must be the nurse.”

“Uh yes, that’s me, Mia.” This man is intimidating, but not the same way Evan is.  It’s more as if he was a military drill sergeant and it was my first day in boot camp. Mr. Saint is about 5 foot 11 inches tall with crystal blue eyes; he’s very tanned, and from what I can tell he’s in pretty good shape, bald, borderline handsome, and what’s more frightening in my opinion is the scar on his cheek running down to his neck, reinforcing my observations.

“Yes Mr. Saint, this is Mia; she’ll be staying with us for a while until I’m able to get around on my own. Ready a room near mine so she’ll be easily accessible to me,” Evan instructs. Oh no, he doesn’t- he’s not manipulating me into living here, that wasn’t in the agreement and he damn well knows it!

“Nice to meet you Mr. Saint, and there will be no need for a room, I’ll be going home at night and returning each morning. I have my own home and I’m staying there,” I say, looking directly at Evan and making sure he has perfect eye contact with me. He isn’t pleased, but he accepts my objection for now. Somehow I know this isn’t the end of this subject.

“Mr. Saint, make up a room anyway, just in case Ms. Galloway needs to lie down, she becomes faint quite easily.” He’s biting his lip, trying not to laugh at me, I’m fuming.  Mr. Saint looks at me with raised eyebrows in question of Evans comment, or is it his playful behavior that has Mr. Saint looking back and forth between Evan and I with a shocked look on his face? I glare at Evan, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reply.

“Do as your please Mr. Saint, I don’t need a room, and don’t mind him, he hit his head quite hard in the accident,” I say jerking my thumb toward Evan. This banter seems to please Mr. Saint, and his expression is less severe as we roll Evan through the huge front doors on a gurney.

“Welcome home Mia, I hope you enjoy it here because I plan on keeping you for a very long time!” he bellows as we enter the
mansion/castle
, sounding a little like the Mad Hatter from Alice and Wonderland. Maybe this is the brain damage, I really should be starting a log or diary of his behavior and maybe I should interrogate some of his staff to see what exactly his normal behavior is, if he’s ever been normal at all. Several people approach at once, closing the doors behind us and bustling about while we move through  what appears to be virtually an empty foyer with a spectacular chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The staircase runs up the middle and branches out on either side to separate areas on the second floor. To my right there’s another set of double doors that I guess may be some sort of office. The left is open, flowing into an area that moves under the stairs and toward the back of the house. Continuing through rooms furnished with old English pieces, we turn to the right and pass through a living room with large floor to ceiling windows covered in deep purple, heavy curtains that drape into pools of fabric on the floor. In fact, there’s a
lot
of purple I realize, everywhere I look. Not a particularly feminine purple, the color makes me feel royal, which is the feeling I imagine the decorator was going for. Open double doors right off of the living room lead us into what must be the master suite of the house, Evan’s bedroom. A young Hispanic woman moves past us toward his bed, pulling back the covers and then she heads to the window to open the heavy white drapes that cover more floor-to- ceiling windows.

“That will be all Cecilia.” He dismisses the girl without a ‘thank you’ again, and I can’t help but notice his lack of manners, thinking that maybe we should start to work on that. The ambulance drivers lowers the gurney next to his bed and begins to attempt to move him over. “No, I’ll stand,” he quips.

“Ah Evan, it would be better to let them help you, you haven’t been out of bed on your own yet,” I recommend. 

“I’m doing it myself.” The drivers look at me with question and I shrug and raise my hands in frustration.

“Let him try, but be right there in case he can’t make it,” I say, and Evan scowls at me. “What? I’m your nurse, and I don’t know why you want me here if you don’t plan on following my directions?” I explain, after that dark look he’s given me. No reply- just stubbornness all over his face. The driver lowers the rail and moves the gurney close to his bed. Evan swings his good leg over and puts his foot on the ground. I tense and begin to move toward him instinctually, and he looks up at me with a

“Don’t you dare!” look on his face, which makes me stop in my tracks. He uses his hands to guide his casted leg off the gurney, hops on his good leg turning and sits with unexpected grace on his own bed. Now he looks at me with total satisfaction at his self-sufficiency and raises the casted leg up onto mattress and the pillows that have been arranged by Cecelia. I am actually impressed. It’s as if he has done this before, or maybe it’s the absolute control he has over every muscle in his body? Either way, I’m enjoying seeing him move on his own, I didn’t think it was possible for him to be more attractive, but Evan in motion is living art. He could be in an anatomy book, the chapter on ‘Muscles of the Body’; every part of him is sculpted, hard and polished. He’s dressed in a long sleeved charcoal grey Henley that stretches across his fine chest in the most distracting way, and a pair of soft jeans with one leg cut off at the knee to allow for the cast.

Oh yes, I had done that when helping him dress, and if that wasn’t torture, I can’t say what is. Pulling that shirt over his head and helping him raise his hips to scoot the jeans on, my hands had trembled the entire time and he had loved it as usual. Mr. Saint stands quietly now, directing everyone and scooting the ambulance drivers out, turning to me he asks. “Anything else Miss. Galloway?”

Surprised that he is directing the question at me and with such formality, I shake my head no, but before he can leave I say, “Mia, please call me Mia.”

“Yes, very well Mia, I’ll go check on dinner with Cook while you get Mr. Lawson settled, then I’ll return and give you a tour of the house.”

“Thank you.”

He turns and backs out of the room, closing both doors at once and reminding me of a butler in an old movie. I turn to Evan; he’s looking expectantly at me. “Can I do anything for you? Pain meds or water? Let’s get your things unpacked and the essentials within your reach.” I’m rambling and my heart is racing, alone with this man in his bedroom, on his territory not mine. I really should have thought this through, but I can’t turn back now, I signed up for this and I’d better figure out a middle ground right off the bat. He’s smiling a face-splitting smile when I look up at him. Why oh why does he love making me sweat?

“Come here.” Against my better judgment I do as I’m told, moving beside the bed, shuffling down by his feet so he can’t actually reach me. “You know you can’t stay out of my reach all the time don’t you Mia? I’m going to need some assistance, albeit minimal, I like doing things for myself.”

“I know…”

He crooks his finger at me to come closer and I do, the pull too strong for me to resist. He takes my hand and examines it, turning it over with both of his, smoothing one hand up to my elbow and back to my hand.

“You’re so soft,” he purrs, his touch lighting my skin on fire and burning every inch of me as he continues to caress my arm, lifting my wrist to his face and inhaling deeply. “You smell sweet, like cotton candy.” He moves my hand away from his face and closes his eyes, instructing me to do the same. “Close your eyes with me.” I hesitate and he opens his and repeats himself. “Close your eyes,” he says with a slightly lower tone, and I do, peeking slightly to see that he has closed his again as well. He moves my hand with his down the side of his smoothly shaven face to his neck, guiding me to his throat, and then changes to the opposite side of his face and repeats the motions. A small growl vibrates in his throat and he moves my hand now to his forehead, gently encouraging me to explore every curve of his face. “My favorite Aunt was blind. She knew me, she loved me, and this is how she learned to read me.”

I inhale a quick breath as this gift of information about his past is given to me. Somehow I know he doesn’t talk about his past with just anyone. I move my hand on my own now, exploring and memorizing his face, gliding over a dimple on one cheek that I remember so well from shaving his face. Seeing it in my mind with eyes closed makes it so much more intimate, instead of just seeing him I feel him, connecting on a level I didn’t know was possible. I free my other hand from his and place one on each side of his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks and fingers touching his ears and down his neck. My breathing comes in quick pants, as does his and he places his hands on my forearms and moves me into a tender kiss, his mouth gently covering mine as he softly licks my lips, nipping at each corner in that way he does. Kissing the tip of my nose and each cheek tenderly he returns to my mouth, deepening the kiss, his tongue gliding and exploring every part of my mouth and entwining with mine. Hands moving to my hips, he eases me to the bed next to him but I take it even further unbelievably, and climb on top of him, straddling his hips. Being careful not to apply any of my weight protecting his leg, I just kneel over him and return to kissing. A low growl escapes him through our greedy mouths and a whimper from my own as he thrusts his hips up, forcing his thick erection to my core, holding me firmly against his body and bringing us chest to chest. I resist, worrying about hurting his leg.