Blind Passion

by Bronwyn Stuart

  “The black limo,” she clarified tartly, her nerves getting the best of her even though she should have been the calmer of the two.

  “I didn’t specify,” he admitted, pulling his phone from his trouser pocket only to run his thumb over the screen and then shove it back in with a grimace. “I just told them to get me to the hospital.”

  Told them?

  Sophie left her bags and put one arm around Brandan’s back and the other hand on his arm to better steer him to the car. The driver met them halfway and confirmed he was there for Mr McAllister. He took Sophie’s luggage to put in the boot and then held the back door open with an easy smile. Brandan put his hands out to feel the edge of the frame and then ducked to get in but let out a hiss when his head struck the unforgiving metal with a thunk.

  “Oh my god, are you okay?” She reached out and laid a hand on his back but he shrugged her off with an expletive she probably didn’t deserve.

  “I’m sorry-,” she began, as she took a seat opposite him in the dim exterior. She was never usually so airheaded but she’d never had to do this before. She’d never had to say “two inches to the right otherwise you’ll be impaled by a fencepost”. Then there was the fact that she wasn’t a touchy-feely person. Sophie hadn’t done more than the impersonal hug with friends in more than six months yet here she was having no choice but to get up close and very personal with a stranger.

  “Never mind,” Brandan said, cutting her off. After more than a few moments of stony silence he finally spoke again. “Do you live in Brisbane?”

  It was a poor peace offering and an even poorer excuse for an apology for losing his temper but she didn’t want to continue on a bad footing with him and it had been her fault he’d hit his head twice now. His frustration was understandable and she had to be more switched on. “No, just having a holiday.”

  “With family?” he asked.

  “Nope. Just me.” She wasn’t going to tell him her life story just because circumstance had thrown them together in the back seat of a limo bigger than half her house.

  “You aren’t curious?” he asked. His subtle flinch and the way his chin dropped to his chest told Sophie he regretted the words as soon as they’d been said.

  “Curious about what?” she asked, taking the conversational bait.

  “About what happened to my head?”

  “It’s none of my business.”

  “Fair enough.” The silence once more engulfed them, interrupted only by the soft drumming of his fingers against the handle of the door.

  “Fine. What happened?” she asked, if only to stop his incessant tapping.

  “Explosion.”

  “That’s it?” That was all he was going to tell her after offering the information in the first place. What was he playing at? She had the feeling he was trying to annoy her.

  “What do you mean that’s it? Were you hoping I’d had my eyes poked out in a bar fight?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she stammered, trying to explain, her cheeks heating.

  “I was only teasing, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been a long day and I’m...out of sorts.”

  She nodded but then remembered he couldn’t see the action. “So, what really happened?”

  “I was visiting my new site in Darwin and there was an explosion. Unfortunately my head was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Is the damage permanent? Will you be able to see again?” She shuddered at the thought of not being able to see danger before it saw you.

  “I don’t know yet,” he said with a shrug. “I was patched up at the Darwin hospital but they didn’t have an ophthalmologist or neurologist on hand. Apparently he’s on holidays in Brisbane so they had me on the first flight out. I have an appointment this afternoon.”

  She knew they were just making small talk to pass the journey but now she was truly interested. “Surely they had someone else there?”

  “Have you ever been to Darwin before today?” he asked.

  “Of course I have.”

  “Have you left the airport?”

  “Uh, no. Not really.”

  “Well, it’s barely more than two Manhattan blocks but with a lot less population.”

  “They do still have doctors there,” she bristled. She didn’t live in Darwin but it was part of the country she did live in. With the sweltering tropical heat and humidity everyone wanted to visit but not many wanted to stay. Still, he didn’t need to diss it.

  “Not the one I needed.”

  “I find it hard to believe there was absolutely no one. Surely the doc would have had a replacement?”

  “I am not risking my vision to a twenty-something rookie, barely out of school.”

  “But you would risk leaving it for longer to fly to Brisbane?” She was baffled. Surely to do something straight away was better than doing nothing?

  “It’s a small risk, as long as I keep my eyes covered. There was so much swelling, apparently it was hard for them to see anything anyway. I have been assured they did all they could before sending me on my way.”

  “Well, I guess it’s your decision.”

  “Yes it is,” he snapped.

  This time the silence was like a living thing, it flowed around them, almost suffocating. Who’d have known he’d be so touchy about every little thing? She wondered how much of that was the accident and blindness and how much was a billionaire’s arrogance.

  “Was anyone else hurt?” she asked, even his weird rudeness was better than the tension.

  “Only cuts and bruises. I received the worst of it.”

  When the limo finally pulled up outside the Royal Brisbane Hospital’s specialist entrance, Brandan was wringing his hands on his discarded business jacket, his now pale lips set in a grim line. He was obviously nervous but what could she possibly do to ease the situation? She’d known him barely an hour and he’d already demonstrated he didn’t really want her help or like her particular brand of small talk.

  “Mr McAllister?”

  “Brandan.”

  “Okay, Brandan, we’re here.”

  “I know, just give me minute.” He was almost panting, his breath coming in rapid and shallow puffs.

  “Are you alright?” She hesitated for only a moment, almost drawing back completely, and then touched his arm.

  He covered her hand with his and it wasn’t long until his breathing returned to normal, though his other hand was still clenched on his knee. It must have taken some effort on his part to regain control. She was impressed and a little jealous over his ability to calm down so quickly. When Sophie had an anxiety attack, they lasted a while and made her almost blind with panic.

  Drawing one last deep breath Brandan let her go and got out of the car, feeling the edges of the door frame with his hands.

  “Do you need me to come with you?” She didn’t want to go inside. The last time she’d been in a hospital... She didn’t even want to think about it.

  “I don’t know where to go. I really need you to at least walk me in to the desk.”

  He held out his hand and she took it but she didn’t want to. She tried to stop her fingers from trembling, tried to evoke the same kind of control he did and calm her breathing. It didn’t work.

  Worst of all, he noticed. “What’s the matter?” he asked with a gentle squeeze of her fingers. “I’m supposed to be the one freaking out, not you.”

  “Nothing,” she replied, but she couldn’t keep the waiver from her voice.

  It was clear from the frown he wore he didn’t believe her. His grip tightened. “Sophie?”

  She snatched her hand from his, shook it out and then wrapped her fingers around his elbow. “No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  Before she could chicken out, Sophie towed him through the automatic double doors into a stark waiting room. Get in, drop him in a chair, get out. Good plan.

  White walls, grey ceiling tiles and a deep blue vinyl floor made her want to turn tail and run as fast as she coul
d. She forgot her plan. She forgot everything. She tried to breathe through her mouth to avoid the smell of antiseptics filling her nose and clouding her senses.

  Sophie swallowed down the fear and approached the counter where a friendly looking secretary in a pale blue uniform sat.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked with a sickly sweet smile in Brandan’s direction. Sophie may as well be invisible.

  His voice audibly lowered as he told the receptionist who he was. “I’m Brandan McAllister. I believe you’re expecting me.” He oozed smooth charm despite his earlier panic.

  Sophie barely noticed.

  Were the walls closing in on her?

  Did the floor actually dip?

  The nurse was still smiling sweetly only now she was looking down to check her list. “Ah, sure, Mr McAllister, just take a seat and we’ll call you when the doctor is ready.”

  Even through the fear shrouded fog muddling her brain, Sophie knew the woman was looking her fill of Brandan. The poor man couldn’t defend himself to her ogling, so she grasped his elbow to steer him in the direction of the waiting chairs.

  Sophie stopped dead. Her hand fell to her side.

  So. Many. Pregnant. Women.

  Children squealed in strollers and ran between the seats in games of tag but it was the heavily pregnant woman sitting closest to her that made her hands go clammy, her skin to flush and the room to start spinning away from her.

  No. Not now. She closed her eyes and willed her errant body to listen. She didn’t want to shame herself in front of anyone. These people wouldn’t understand. Brandan wouldn’t understand.

  “I...I have...to go,” she stammered, and then did the last thing she should have.

  Sophie ran from the room and the hospital, stopping only when the bright sunshine blinded her. She doubled over, heaving in huge deep breaths of warm, humid air, fighting against the urge to bring up what little was in her stomach as she dropped to her knees on the hot concrete.

  “Are you alright, Miss?” someone asked from her left.

  Was she? She hadn’t vomited and she was still conscious so she guessed she was okay. For now.

  “Miss?” the nervous voice again.

  She looked up to see the chauffer from Brandan’s car reaching out a hand to steady her as she straightened.

  “I’m fine.” She flinched away from his touch. “I just don’t like hospitals.” Even to her own ears it sounded like a lie.

  “Where is Mr McAllister?”

  “Oh, god.” She put a hand on her forehead in horror. What a nightmare. How was she going to explain her reaction? This is why she hadn’t wanted to do it in the first place. Too many questions she didn’t want to go into with him or anyone else. Damn you Joan!

  Deep breaths. “He’s in the waiting room. Could you please tell him I’m leaving?”

  The driver did not look convinced it was safe to leave her.

  She knew what he was thinking. She was probably white as a ghost and her hands were shaking. He’d be busy trying to guess what bad experience she’d had in a hospital. The much hated pity look would soon follow.

  She had to get out of there.

  “If you wait over by the car, I’ll be back.” He gave her no chance to argue as he strode off through the double doors.

  He was only gone a few minutes but it was long enough for Sophie to freak out again. Her boss had told her how important it was that they all make a good impression. Had she just blown it? Oh God, her stomach lurched again, she really was going to be sick.

  “I’m Mick,” the driver introduced himself when he got back to where she leaned against the limo, her head in her hands. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She just wanted to get her luggage and get the hell out of there but she had hardly any cash in her purse and no ride. She did have a credit card but she hated to use it for a non-emergency.

  “Can you take me somewhere?” Sophie asked him. She’d mapped her route from the airport by bus and train but she didn’t know how to get there from the hospital.

  “I have to wait for Mr McAllister but after that I can take you anywhere you need to go.”

  She nodded and her heart rate slowed a little. She hadn’t had a panic attack for months and she’d thought she was getting over them but clearly not. She hoped it wasn’t going to happen every time she saw a pregnant woman for the rest of her life.

  They sat in silence, her and the chauffeur, for another thirty minutes, each left to their own thoughts, until the receptionist from the desk came outside to tell them Brandan was ready to leave. Her gaze shifted from Sophie to Mick and then back to Sophie. When neither of them moved, she shrugged and walked back the way she came.

  “Are you going to go get him?” Mick asked her.

  “I can’t go back in there.” She was embarrassed to admit it but she just couldn’t. Her job, the airline, even her friendship with her boss couldn’t compel her to walk back into that waiting room.

  “All-righty,” Mick replied a little too cheerily and pushed off the hood.

  Sophie watched the glass double doors for a few minutes until Mick and Brandan came into view. For a few seconds she thought about running. Money be damned. Her reputation, her career be damned. But then she remembered her gear was in the boot of the limo. And she really did need the cash and the lift.

  If Brandan McAllister was still willing to pay her for a job half-done.

  “Sophie?” Brandan called. His voice was low and held a hint of danger. Mick must have told him she was still there, freaking out and acting all weird. Yep. That was her.

  “Ready to go?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant voice. Perhaps if she acted as though nothing had happened he would too.

  “What the hell was that back there?”

  Chapter Three

  “What do you mean?” Just when he began to think there was some substance to Sophie Wright, she went and said something obtuse or vague. All the stammering and single word answers told him she wasn’t the brightest light around but when she’d reached out to him to offer her strength, he’d felt her there with him all the way down to his battered soul. Until she’d run off and left him hanging.

  “Fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to hear about it.” Getting carefully into the limo he thanked the driver and told him the name of the hotel he would be staying at.

  He was so furious he found he didn’t particularly care about Sophie’s reasons. He certainly didn’t care that he’d sounded childish and surly when there was obviously something going on with his babysitter. He knew he should probably be more sympathetic with her but it had been embarrassing for him, standing there in the waiting room like an idiot, not knowing how many steps he could take without running into someone or something. He’d stood there like a dumbass until someone had led him to a chair.

  “Can’t you drop me off first?” Sophie asked in a small voice.

  Was she so eager to part company with him? “I don’t have any cash on me,” he ground out.

  “Oh, ok.”

  Did her voice drop? Damn it all to hell. He needed to be able to see her!

  But he had bigger problems now. The specialist had told him the damage was extensive but with all of the swelling they just couldn’t see enough. Even a CT scan wasn’t going to give them an accurate picture. He’d have to keep the bandages on for a few more days to try to give his eyes a chance to heal and then they’d be able to see if the damage was permanent. He had a fifty-fifty chance that he would be irreversibly blinded. Something about retinas and attachment. He’d vagued out after that.

  He clenched his fists tighter where they rested on his thighs. To make matters worse he’d need a live-in carer for a few days while he waited and there was a nurse’s strike on so he was fresh out of luck on that front as well. The only nurses in the city working were for emergencies, hospitals and aged care facilities. He didn’t rate for any of those.

  The Doctor had off
ered to admit him to a men’s ward rather than be alone. Brandan had been hard pressed not to throw a wild punch. What was he, some kind of invalid? He didn’t need that kind of nursing. Just someone to get him drinks and tell him if his shirt was on backwards.

  “What did the doctor say?” Sophie’s voice cut into the oppressive silence and as much as he hated to admit it, the sound calmed him, brought him back away from the edge.

  “I won’t know how damaged my eyes are for a few more days,” he replied on a long sigh. “Still too much swelling.” He hadn’t intended to tell her anything, he didn’t need her feeling any sorrier for him than she already did but he couldn’t ignore her either. He didn’t care what she thought. At the end of the day he’d pay her enough money to ensure she wouldn’t go to the media with an over-exaggerated story about the morning and his accident, and then he’d never see her again. Well, never listen to her again.

  He’d do the same for the driver and then he’d be free of people feeling sorry for him. Pity parties were always better solo. His plan was to stay in the hotel and get drunk until he saw the doctor again. How difficult could it be?

  The limo rolled to a stop outside The Plaza Resort and Spa and they all got out. He gave Mick the times he’d need to be picked up on Thursday for his follow up appointment. The driver told him he’d come back for him and then pressed his card into his hand so the hotel could call if Brandan needed a car before then.

  A tense silence once again fell and for the thousandth time that day Brandan wished he could see. He wondered why they were all still standing there, no one speaking or moving. Maybe there was something wrong with the hotel?

  He’d stayed at the some of the most expensive and exclusive hotels in the world, the best. It sat badly that he couldn’t tell what he was being led into. Is that why they were still there? Could he ask Sophie to describe it to him in her soft tones that sounded like the most soothing music he’d ever heard, a shining beacon in an otherwise unfamiliar landscape?

  His muscles flinched and danced involuntarily when she took his arm, her grip once again warm rather than clammy.