Indivisible Line (30 page)

“You need sleep. You have classes tomorrow.”

“I can sleep on the sofa bed. It looks comfortable enough.” Besides, she needed to make sure he was okay. Sarah may have trusted the doctors and the nurses, but she’d feel much better if she were around to observe him herself—kind of an extra pair of eyes in case something came up. She began moving pieces of furniture around, shoving the coffee table and ottoman against the wall. The sofa bed was a bit harder. What she’d thought would be a breeze to set up was proving tough to budge.

“And they say this thing unfolds in less than a minute,” she grumbled, using one foot to upend the cushion, but it just snapped back into place. With mounting frustration, she muttered a rare oath, and Greg let out a soft chuckle. After attempting half a dozen times with the same result, Sarah threw her hands up in exasperation.

Greg grinned, despite the exhaustion that marked his face. “I think that means you can go home now.”

Sarah frowned, placing her hands on her hips. “No. You need someone here with you. I don’t have to be very comfortable.” The look she gave him meant she was as unwilling to budge as the sofa. She walked over to the closet and retrieved a pillow and blanket.

“Fine. You can sleep here, but I want you on the bed with me.” He patted the space to his right and smiled.

“Wow . . . that was smooth.”

“What?” Greg looked at her questioningly.

“I think that’s the smoothest line I’ve ever heard to get a woman in bed.”

“Well, either you sleep here on the bed with me, or I call Rudy to pick you up.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Just this once, I’ll relent.”

He smiled at her small concession, seeming content with his victory. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, so you need not worry about me.”

Sarah excused herself and ran to the bathroom, where she spent the next thirty minutes washing her face and raking her fingers through her hair. For some insane reason, her hands trembled, and she gripped the edge of the sink to stare at her reflection in the mirror.
Get a grip, Sarah. The man is incapacitated. There’s nothing he can do to you, and for Christ sake, this isn’t the first time you’ve been in bed with him,
she scolded herself in silence.

The moment she came out of the bathroom, Greg turned his head in her direction. It was obvious that he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. “I thought you’d never come out.” His words were meant to tease, but Sarah’s nervous anxiety made her stumble at the sound of his voice.

Greg reached out to catch her, even though she was still several feet away. His face contorted, and he bellowed in agonized pain.

Sarah rushed forward, not sure what help he’d allow her to give. “Greg, are you all right?” He nodded, gritting his teeth. She pushed the call button. “I’m calling for pain meds. I think you need some right now.”

“I think so.” His answer came out in a gasp. Sarah rubbed his arms to soothe him.
 

A soft tap on the door announced the nurse’s arrival. “Can I help you?” the young man asked when he stood by the side of the bed to turn off the call light.

“Yes, Mr. Andrews is in pain. Is he scheduled for pain medication now?” Sarah spoke for Greg after glancing at his face and realizing he was in too much discomfort to speak.

The nurse glanced at Greg and nodded in understanding. “Let me check his chart, and I’ll be right back.” However, instead of leaving at once, he paused and stared at Sarah, almost as though he had gotten distracted.

Greg, despite the immense discomfort and the throbbing from his leg, must have caught a glimpse of the nurse’s apparent fascination with Sarah, although his voice was calm when he said, “Will you go and check
now
?”

Like someone had cracked a bullwhip, the nurse snapped out of his ogling and rushed toward the door. Greg muttered a curse.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like men who eyeball women like they’re food to eat.” He straightened his body on the bed, both to get comfortable and to create a bigger space for Sarah, but moving his leg seemed to be a monumental undertaking. “I need help.”

“Are you jealous?” Sarah smiled before reaching forward to encircle her arms around Greg under his armpits, hoisting him up to a semi-sitting position.

“How do you do that? Lift me like I don’t weigh a thing?” Greg fluffed the extra pillow and placed it next to his. He patted the cushion in invitation.

She hid a smile. His diversionary tactic wouldn’t work, but she answered his question. “Everyone in the medical field is taught how to lift a patient without compromising their backs . . . but I don’t want to talk about lifting procedures. Tell me why you’re jealous.”

Well aware she was treading dangerous waters, she climbed onto the bed. Sarah managed to position herself in a way that left a wide space between them. Greg tried scooting over, too, but the weight of his injured leg prevented him. She settled next to him and waited for his answer.

He took a deep, long breath before responding. “Because I want you for myself, okay?” His voice was so low that if she hadn’t been holding her breath, she would’ve missed it.

“You want me? Like a child clamoring for a toy? To keep, possess, and own?” Somehow, the way he’d said it sparked anger in her that she hadn’t realized she harbored. Sure, she wanted him, too, but there was more—there had always been more. From the first time she’d seen him, she had felt something stronger than mere attraction.

Greg stiffened at her accusation. He turned to look at her, his expression a mix of hurt and confusion. “Have I ever made you feel like a possession?”

Stunned at his question, Sarah aimed a challenging gaze at him. “That was never in question. What I want to know is if this arrangement we have is a way for you to set me up as your mistress.”

Greg lowered his eyes, breaking their connection, and she had the sinking feeling that there was a chance he might admit to doing just that.
 

But then Greg shook his head. “No, that was never my intention. All I wanted to do was take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” Sarah jumped off the bed, her eyes flashing with disbelief. “Take care of me? I’m not a child that needs looking after. I could always take care of myself just fine, even before you came along.”

His hand clamped down on her arm. “Sit still, please. You’re giving me a headache.” When she had sat back on the mattress, he continued. “Sarah, I want you to understand where I’m coming from. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you, in my penthouse—”

“Want? What’s with the
want
word?” There it was again. Sarah glared at him, unable to tear her eyes away from his face.

“Damn it, will you let me
finish
?” His eyes blazed back at her, and he refused to let go of her arm, no matter how hard she tried to shake his hand loose. She kept struggling, and his hand went to the small of her back to pull her closer to him. “I’ve wanted you and more. The other night, you let me taste heaven . . . I don’t think I’ll want any other woman ever again.”

Sarah stared at him, but before she had a chance to ask what he meant, there was a knock on the door, and the same male nurse came in. Greg took one look at him, turned his head to Sarah, and his mouth descended on hers. The kiss wasn’t something she’d experienced before. This was hot, fierce, authoritative, and almost territorial. With so many thoughts whirling in her head, Sarah resisted at first before she found herself succumbing to the delicious flavor he offered.

The nurse’s footsteps hesitated before approaching the bed. “I’ll put your pain pill here on your bedside table,” he announced, and Sarah soon heard the sound of the door closing.

When they surfaced for air, Greg kept his arms looped around Sarah’s waist. He wore a satisfied smirk on his face, and Sarah blinked several times, speechless. Her fingers touched her mouth where he’d kissed her, tracing the tingling skin.

“What was that for?” She tried to push him away, but his arm still held her body against his, making it impossible to move away.

“You asked me what’s with my wanting you. That’s one of the reasons why I want you. Because you taste good, and I love the way you smell. I’ve craved you for so long.” His eyes darkened. “And I love the way you respond to my kisses.”

Sarah bit her lower lip. He was right. She had responded to his kisses with undeniable passion, even though she had known it would just lead to more trouble. She wanted to taste him again. Throwing her reservations away, she reached out and traced the planes of his face, his jawline, and along his neck. The attraction between them scared her, but she couldn’t stop touching him.

“I . . . I want more from you, Greg.” There, the words were out. In particular, that word
want
again.

Greg shuddered at her declaration. He caressed her back, rubbing soothing circles, his warmth burning her skin. “Tell me what you want from me,” he whispered.

“I want what I can’t have.” How could she explain how she felt when she couldn’t even grasp it herself?

“What do you mean?”

How could she think straight when they were this close and his touch was wreaking havoc in her mind? “Greg . . . we’re from two different worlds. I knew that from the very beginning. I agreed to our arrangement because it would give me a chance to be with you, even if I knew you and I can never be.” That knowledge might well kill her. “I like simple things, I lead a simple life, and . . . I want marriage to a man that I love.”

“I’m doing everything I can so that we can be together.”
 

She sensed his conviction was real. There was no doubt he meant what he said, but the memory from the night before gnawed at her—Greg with Cassandra, and whatever may have happened between them.

“You and your wife . . . why didn’t you tell me? How can you pretend there’s nothing between you and her? I saw you in the restaurant.” A small cry escaped her at the memory.

“Oh, Sarah. I didn’t mean to hide things from you.” He tipped her chin so she was looking up at him. His eyes were pools of kindness when he spoke. “I called Cassandra so we could meet. To be honest, I don’t know why I did. A big part of me wanted the divorce to be finalized, but another part of me couldn’t accept defeat. I’d let her get away too easy. I hated the idea of her living off me, when I was certain all this time that she’s been involved with Cade. Still, when I got to her place, I was ready to forget about it, to let her get what she wanted so I could have my freedom back. Then Cade was there . . .”

Sarah had to ask. “Are you trying to tell me that you and Cassandra aren’t getting back together? But when I saw you at the rest—” Greg’s fingers silenced her next words.

“For someone who’s smart, you’re not using your brain, or even just your eyes.”

When she attempted to say something, Greg silenced her again, this time with his mouth, and Sarah shuddered with intense delight. When they broke apart for air, Greg continued his explanation.

“Cassandra and I shouldn’t have happened in the first place. You were wrong in your assumptions. But I know what I saw in the restaurant. You and Jeremy . . .” Shades of dark clouds lingered in his expression, and he turned his head toward the window.

“No, Greg. Last night was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone to dinner with Jeremy. I only went because I couldn’t go back to the penthouse, knowing you were somewhere else. And then I saw you there with your wife. I got carried away . . .”

“What do you mean?” Tension crept in his face.

“I drank more than I should,” she admitted, feeling mortified for acting on impulse. “I accepted his invitation to go out again.”

“Does that mean I’m too late?” His shoulders slumped.

Chapter 21

Sarah shook her head and grabbed Greg’s hand in haste, more to tell herself this wasn’t the time to think of herself and her foolish pride than to comfort him. With unaccustomed bravery, she brought it to her lips and kissed it.

Hope sprang up in Greg’s eyes. “Sarah . . .”

“After we left the restaurant, Jeremy and I went to the café next door. We talked, and he told me how he felt. As much as I wanted to get you out of my mind and try to move on, it wasn’t fair to string him along just because I couldn’t be with the man I wanted.”

Greg watched her, his eyes intent. He continued to hold her hand while she spoke, often squeezing it, which encouraged her to keep going.

“We parted as friends, although Jeremy asked me to look him up if things didn’t work out between the two of us.” She flashed Greg a rueful smile.

“He said that?” When she nodded, he smiled. “He’ll be waiting forever because I won’t screw up. Now, I want to know how you really feel about me, Sarah.”

That was a tough question. She felt like she needed a day to compose her thoughts. With all the emotions he’d stirred up within her, a day might not even be enough. Where to start? How to tell him she wanted him as much as he wanted her? That she craved the feel of his body like he was the center of her universe? She wanted to tell him of her fears, too—in particular, her fear of losing him.

Greg must have seen the hesitation in her face, because he bridged the small gap between their bodies, inching toward her despite his physical pain. His hand went around her waist and braced her against his chest so she could feel his heartbeat thudding against her skin.