by Kathryn Shay
He shook his head. And stepped away. “No, let’s keep everybody in the dark.” Visibly, he shook off the thought. “Now, tell me why you’re studyin’ those slots like they were quarterly reports.”
Alexis let him change the subject because that was the easiest thing to do. And because she felt guilty. When a man abandoned one of the machines, she darted to the stool he’d vacated.
Spence slid into the empty stool next to her at a twin slot machine. ‘Fess up. You got that Miss Alexis look on your face.”
“Well, the bet is that if I win more than you do with this ticket—” she slipped it into the machine “—I get to choose my pleasure. If you win, you get to choose yours.”
“Yeah, so what were you watchin’ for?”
Grinning mischievously, she tossed back her hair and patted the gaudy silver machine. “This little guy hasn’t paid off in a quarter of an hour. The percentage goes up for every minute he’s stingy.”
Rolling his eyes, Spence faced his machine. “Jeez, this isn’t a corporate merger. I can’t believe you’d study the odds.”
“You’ll eat your words, Keagan. Wait and see.”
“All right Nathan Detroit,” he said, referring to the odds-obsessed character in Guys and Dolls. “It’s ten-fifteen.” He shot her a searing look. “To the victor belongs the spoils.”
Alexis pressed the spin button. Bells ranga whistle shrilled and the ping of machines starting echoed in the air. She checked her board. “Fifty big ones, buster. I just doubled my stake.”
Spence didn’t even react. Cool as the fighter pilot he’d been in Iraq, he studied his machine and smoothly drew down the handle.
She loved breaching his cool and decided to make an attempt now. Pivoting about sixty degrees, she leaned over so her breasts grazed his arm, ensuring that the quick glance he gave her provided him with an ample show of cleavage. He focused straight ahead, again, the only sign he’d been affected was the leap of a muscle in his jaw.
“If I win—” she whispered softly, “I think I’m gonna make you get on your knees...” She inched even closer and whispered in his ear. When she finished describing the sensual scenario, his face was flushed a marked shade of red. Her sultry laugh made him grip the machine; satisfied, she returned to her own one-armed bandit.
He was absolutely silent as he pressed the spin button. Five tries later, bells and whistles blared from his machine. A quick glance told Alexis he’d hit a one hundred credit payoff. Again, Spence played Mr. Stoneface. Which was why she was shocked to hear him speak in a conversational tone, as if he were discussing the weather with Teddy. “Remember that morning Clare asked Jamie to go with her for her appointment at ShyLocks?”
Alexis swallowed hard. Like two lovesick teenagers with an hour alone in an empty house, they’d spent an...interesting...fifty-five minutes in Spence’s bedroom. “Yes,” she breathed.
“If I win, I wanna do that again. Only this time, I might use ropes.”
Her breath hitched. Alexis felt her body flush. She reached for her drink with a shaky hand. And went back to her machine.
By midnight, Alexis could have cared less about the slots. Their accidental touches had grown more frequent, their teasing sexual banter more explicit. It wasn’t that she was just sexually aroused, though she was—gloriously so. It was that their repartee had been fun and incredibly intimate; she’d never felt closer to a man in her life. She wanted to weep for the wellspring of feelings inside her for Spence.
“That’s it, I’m out.”
“Huh?”
“You won, sweetheart. No money on the screen.”
She stared at her credits. There were a lot. “Tough luck.”
Beneath his breath he mumbled, “I don’t think so.”
Her gaze sharpened on him “Did you lose on purpose, Spencer Keagan?”
He shrugged and gave her a sexy grin. “I didn’t lose at all, darlin’.” He stood and grasped her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
o0o
THE CORRIDOR LIGHT glowed dimly at the door to her room. Alexis leaned against the wall and stared up at him. “It was a magical night, Spence.”
Careful not to touch her, he smiled down at her. “I know.” His gaze consumed her face—the flush brought on, no doubt, by two glasses of wine and sexual promises that they both knew they couldn’t keep. Tonight.
“I’m going to write down every single thing you threatened me with while you were winning,” he promised.
Her smile was intimate.
“Love is not arrogant...it bears all things...endures all things.”
Aw, hell, he thought. Who was he kidding? He tipped up her chin. “Tonight was the most special night of my life.” He tucked back a strand of her hair. “So far.” She tilted her head in question. “I’m okay with everything, Lex.” He nodded to the doors. “Even with the kids’ suspicions. I can wait two more weeks.” Her gratitude was worth the sacrifice that still cut deep. “But after that, we have to do some serious talkin’.”
“I want that.”
“Good.” He stepped back. “Now, before I lose my control, hustle into that room and go to sleep next to your daughter.”
“Kiss me.”
“No. I won’t be able to stop if I do.”
“All right.” She turned to open the door.
“Alexis?”
Pivoting, she peered up at him questioningly.
I love you. “Good night.”
“Good night, Spence.”
He breathed deeply as he unlocked the door to his own room. Expecting to find Jeff asleep, he was surprised to see his son propped up on pillows, reading in bed with a briefcase beside him. “Hi.”
“Hi, Dad.”
Closing and bolting the door, Spence asked, “You brought work?”
Jeff nodded.
“Isn’t it a little late?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He indicated the adjoining door. “Did you have a good time?”
“Yep.” Spence tried not to grin too broadly, though he suddenly longed to tell his son about Alexis. And once more was irked by the stupid secrecy.
“Love is patient.”
“Good.” Jeff’s gaze skittered away and focused on the papers he held.
“Is something wrong?”
Jeff heaved a heavy sigh. “Yeah, Dad, there is. I’ve got something to tell you that you aren’t going to like.” Again, he glanced at the adjoining doors. “I didn’t want to spoil your evening, but I’ve got to leave town at eleven tomorrow so I have to tell you tonight.”
Shrugging out of his sports coat, Spence tossed it on the chair and sat down on his bed. “I didn’t know you were going out of town. You’ll have to fly back for the weekend.” Overflowing with emotion, he decided to take a risk. “This trip means a lot to me, Jeff.” His son simply stared at him. “I’m hopin’ it’s a turning point in our relationship.”
“So was I, Dad, but I can’t go.”
Spence stilled in the process of removing a shoe. “I don’t understand. You got the tickets to Watkins Glen yourself.”
Eyes bleak, Jeff held up the brochure he’d been reading. “I goofed up. I had the wrong dates on the calendar. This week, including the weekend, is the Palm Beach Boat Show. KeagCrafts has invested megabucks in our displays, and scheduled parties and dinners throughout the ten days.”
Spence felt the old, familiar resentment toward his father’s company rise in his throat like bile. It tasted just as bitter now as it had before. “I see,” he said, coldly.
Like a little boy, Jeff tossed down the brochure and crawled to the edge of the bed. “Look, I checked, and there’s another race at the end of September. I’ll buy new tickets, make new arrangements.”
Disbelieving, Spence stared at his son. He’d never realized how much Jeff looked like Judd—same color of eyes, same shape of the face. But some fatherly instinct made him try—one more time. “Maybe you could come back early for the race?”
“I can’t.” Jeff’s
shoulders sagged. “Grandpa’s too old to handle all the closing details.”
Spence felt his body tense, his hands fist. “Grandpa employs a horde of gofers who’re at his beck and call.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
Spence swallowed hard. Voices murmured in the hall and a phone rang in another room. Poisonous feelings threatened to erupt inside of him. Mercilessly, he stifled them and made his voice neutral. “I suppose not.”
“Please, Dad, try to understand.”
Oh, I understand. Only too well. And, like the soldier he’d once been, Spence knew how to protect himself. Running for cover was always choice number one. He kicked off his other shoe, and stood. “I do. Forget about it.” Crossing to the closet, he slid the door open and removed a hanger, his back to his son. “Hell, Teddy’s off this weekend—I’ll see the races with him”
Jeff said, “Dad, please, don’t do this.”
Spence heard the plea in his son’s voice. His heart ached for the little boy Jeff had been and the man he’d become. He opened his mouth to respond when a loud knock on the adjoining door cut off his reply. Another one followed, pounding this time.
On a pilot’s red alert, Spence dashed to the door. Pulling his side open, he found Alexis on the other, still in her dress. In pj’s, Jamie hovered behind her.
“Alexis, what is it?”
“P-Portia just called. It’s my...it’s my father. He’s been rushed to City Hospital.”
The rescuer in him surfaced. “What’s wrong?”
“He got hurt somehow, early in the evening. He’d been trying to reach me all night, and when he couldn’t, he left a message on Portia’s machine, thinking I might be out with her. She came in at midnight and got it.”
“How seriously is he hurt?”
“Portia didn’t know. Apparently, Dad hadn’t seen a doctor yet when he called.” Alexis’s face crumpled. “I wish I knew more. After Brody...this kind of thing scares me.”
He tugged her to him for a brief hug. “We’ll get you there right away and find out, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEXIS PRIED OPEN her eyes only to encounter the bright lights from the long thin fluorescent bulbs in the high ceiling. The crick in her neck had been caused by the hard pillow she’d slept on and the contorted position she still held—gathered closely to Spence’s chest, on her side, cramped together on one of the stuffed couches in the waiting room of City Hospital in Rochester.
Arching her back, she moaned; a firm hand grasped her upper arm. “Shh, you’re okay.”
Her head fell back and she looked up at the man who had been her rock since they’d received Portia’s call hours earlier. His beard had darkened his jaw to a scratchy stubble and his eyes were sleepy. She smiled at him and kissed the folds of his neck. Groggily, he smiled back and nodded to the couch across from them.
Sleep had made Alexis forget that her daughter and Jeff were with them. Not that it mattered now. The way Spence had comforted her all night was a dead giveaway of how they felt about each other. A grin tugged at her lips as she studied the picture their kids made. Jamie was out cold, curled up like a baby on a hospital pillow, with Jeff’s jacket tossed over her bare arms, and her sock-covered feet resting on his knee. Jeff held her toes, with his own feet propped up on the coffee table. His head was thrown back, his mouth slightly open— sound asleep.
“They look like brother and sister,” Alexis observed.
Nestled on his chest, she felt rather than heard Spence’s “Mmm,” at her words.
Straightening, she sat up. “What time is it?”
With obvious effort, Spence checked his watch. “Six.” He slouched down in the cushions. Alexis stared at him, grateful once again that he’ d taken charge at the hotel, in the same way he might have directed an accident scene. He’d told her and Jamie to change into casual clothes, instructed Jeff to settle the hotel bill, and had them all packed and whisked away in the car within thirty minutes. Throughout the interminable drive to Rochester, he’d held her hand tightly. Though no one had spoken much, she’d sensed the comfort of family. When they arrived at the hospital about three, the Keagans and Jamie stood by her as the resident informed them that Austin had been brought into Emergency with a leg injury—a ruptured Achilles tendon—from playing tennis the previous evening. The orthopedic surgeon had been called in and had scheduled surgery for seven o’clock in the morning. They hadn’t seen Austin then because he’d been given a sedative and was sleeping.
Spence pushed himself up on the couch and flung his feet to the floor. In a sitting position, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Want coffee?” he asked.
“I’ll get us both some.” Rising, she’d taken three steps toward the coffeemaker in the corner when a doctor appeared at the double doors. In seconds, Spence was at her side, his hands on her shoulders. Her heartbeat tripled as the doctor approached them. Images of Brody’s accident began to replay in her mind
“Ms. Castle, I’m Doctor John Kane, and I’ll be performing the surgery on your father this morning.” Though tiredness etched his mouth and eyes, the man appeared hopeful. “It’s a fairly straightforward procedure—about forty-five minutes long. His right Achilles tendon is torn and needs reattachment.” The doctor pulled off his glasses and smiled at her, reassuringly.
Alexis leaned against Spence. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“No, the surgery itself is simple. It’s the recuperation that will be difficult.”
“In what way?”
“Three weeks in a heavy cast—the first week he’ll have to keep his leg elevated the entire time. Then three to four weeks in a weight-bearing cast.”
“So he’ll be laid up about two months?”
“Technically, yes. But even afterwards, he’ll have a hard time walking until he strengthens those muscles. He’ll limp and need a cane for a few more weeks.”
“Still, it could have been worse.” She glanced at Spence, remembering Brody again.
“Your father didn’t see it that way last night,” Dr. Kane added. “He’s worried about running his company.”
Inside, Alexis experienced a sharp pang of guilt. Her father had shouldered all the responsibility since her medical leave three months ago. He’d been doing her job and his.
“You’ll have to make alternate arrangements. He won’t be able to work for a while.”
Alexis straightened. “I’ll just run the company.” Though she felt Spence’s hand tighten on her arm, she ignored it. There really wasn’t a choice. Her father had covered for her during her illness and she would do the same for him “Can I see him now? Is he awake?”
“Yes.” The doctor’s gaze swept Spence and the kids. “Are you relatives?”
“No.” Spence shot a glance at Jamie. “But she is.”
“Let her sleep,” Alexis said. She wanted to see Austin alone. Before following the doctor, she faced Spence. “Will you stay with Jamie?”
“Of course.” His eyes were grim, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. She’d been wrapped up in herself and her own welfare long enough. Her father needed her now.
o0o
THE ROOM WAS twilight dim, and quiet. Only the beeps of machinery and the soft murmurs of hospital staff penetrated the silence. Austin watched as his door opened and two people stepped inside. He wished he wasn’t as glad to see his daughter as he was. But he felt particularly vulnerable, and mortal. “Hi, honey,” he said.
“Hi, yourself.” She nodded to the doctor as he slipped out the door, then she crossed to Austin’s bed. Grasping his hand, she leaned over and kissed his forehead. “How do you feel?” When she drew back, he saw the worry in her eyes.
Austin struggled to be strong. He was her father, damn it. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d been ill, right in this very hospital. Besides, his injury wasn’t serious. Not like Brody’s. “I’m fine, Alexis. It’s nothing.”
With a daughter’s insight, she gave him the
smile she’d used when she graduated from high school and he’d tried to hide his sadness at her leaving home. “You’re going into surgery, Dad. And you’ve got a long recuperation afterwards.”
Austin thought about Castle Enterprises. “I know. It’ll be hard to run the business for a while.”
“I’m going to run it for you.”
“No, Alexis, you’re not. Your health is more important than Castle Enterprises.”
“So is yours.”
He sighed. “We make a pair, don’t we?”
Again, her grin was familiar. Austin wondered briefly what he’d done to deserve a daughter like her. His hand found hers on the bed. “It’s only the next few weeks I’m worried about.”
“What’s happening in the next few weeks?”
“Budget meetings in Chicago with the heads of all the major businesses. They’ve been scheduled for a year. I can’t miss them.”
“I’ll go.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Dad, you’ll be in a heavy cast for three weeks. And your leg has to be elevated for the entire first week.” She brushed a comforting hand over his forehead. It was in that moment he realized she was the only person in his life who truly cared about him. The truth made his heart ache.
“I’ll handle the budget meetings,” she promised. “They’re for what, two or three days this week?”
“Four.”
“Fine, I’ll be back by Friday. We’ll get someone to come in and help out with you while I’m gone.”
Austin struggled to say no. To take the reins. But sixty-two-year-old insecurity snaked through him and nibbled away at his self-confidence. Once more, he felt raw. “Maybe just this week,” he heard himself agree. “Then I’ll handle the second round. And you’ll be able to go back to the lake to finish recuperating.”
“We’ll see about next week.”
