Sam snorted. “Okay, snooty cat, be that way.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. That I’ll be this way—forever. I’m sorry, Sam, so sorry, for not trusting you. But the only apology you may ever hear is meow. Curling herself into the tightest ball she could make, shutting out Sam’s soft bedside drawl, Jessica cupped her eyes with a paw and dived downward into her self. Cattoo half awoke, purred drowsy welcome. Shutting out all but that rasping lullaby, Jessica surrendered to a troubled and restless sleep.
Sometime later she was dimly aware of being carried— the sickening swing of the bag as Sam walked, the acrid fumes of car exhaust and the rumble of engines in traffic, the garbage smell of the alley behind their mill, the dizzy swing of the bag again, then the rising drone of the elevator.
Sam unzipped the carrier in the loft. “You all right in there? You’re being awfully quiet for a cat.”
“Just leave me alone, Sam.”
Instead, his hands smoothed around her and lifted. She struggled, but he flipped her gently, so that she lay, pawsup, cradled along his forearm like a baby. “What’s the matter, babe? Are you carsick?”
“Heartsick.” I walked out on you when I could’ve stayed. Oh, she knew it would’ve ended sooner or later, much as it had. She’d been no match for him from the start, and sooner or later he would’ve realized that.
But her damnable pride had cut them short. When every moment with him had been precious, her own stupid pride had cheated her of months, maybe years, of his company. At the first sign of rejection, she’d turned and walked, rather than stayed to demand an explanation.
It was funny—bitterly funny—how what was your strength became, in the end, your downfall. Pride had been her only defense in a family where pride wasn’t half enough. But with Sam…
She spent her evening curled in a ball on the couch. Sam tried to tempt her with a bowl of corned-beef hash, but her stomach revolted at the first sniff. He cooked his own meal, worked on his laptop computer for a while, then wandered off to bed.
SHE STOOD at the edge of a cliff, wind whipping her hair. Tearing at the ring on her finger, she wrenched it free—it broke into three links as it left her paw. She hurled it from her, gold dropping into blackness—and her heart fell with it. That ring was all she’d ever wanted. All she’d ever need in life. She leaned, snatched after it—and fell. “Yeeeeeeow!”
Heart hammering, throat aching, she jolted awake, her scream still echoing in her ears. Had she screamed aloud or only dreamed it?
And if a cat screams in the night and nobody hears, was there ever really a noise at all?
Her tail flicked skittishly into view—puffed gigantic.
Well, you heard it, didn’t you? She half fell off the couch and shuffled off to the bathroom.
Jessica had just flushed the toilet and jumped down from its seat when she heard a shambling step out in the hallway. Oops. She shot past Sam’s legs while he groped for the light switch, then swung back to watch from the door.
Light flooded the room—her pupils contracted to slits. The last of the water swirled down the drain.
“What the…” Sam approached the fixture as if a snake might rear from its depths any moment. “How…” He leaned against the wall and stared, fascinated. “Did that thing flush itself, or am I still dreamin’?”
“You were dreaming, too?” Jessica joined him, pressing her shoulder to his bare shin.
“Wha—!” He jumped, bounced off the wall, then swung to glare. “You pussyfootin’ sneak!”
“What were you dreaming about?” She licked his calf, savoring the taste of salt—and a deeper, muskier flavor that was all his own. He tasted…right.
“Weirdest dream. Jess and me, think we were parachuting. At night. She was fallin’, I was try in’ to catch her before she hit the ground. She screamed—” he shuddered “—like a cat…” He hooked a bare foot under her stomach and half lifted her off the tiles. “Did you yell, fur-ball?”
“I did, but there’s no way you could’ve heard me, all the way down the hall with your door closed.” They were in tune, speaking the same language in dreams, her cat to his sleepy Texan.
He nudged her with his foot. “Go on, get out of here. Give a man some privacy.”
She sauntered off, tail disdainful, but couldn’t resist stopping to look over her shoulder. Her whiskers lifted, then quivered. “And you think cats are funny, big guy!”
“Hussy, quit peekin’.” He flushed, watched intently, shook his head. “Guess I better check this thing out in the morning.”
“Oh, no, Sam, don’t you dare!” She followed him to the sink and stood on his feet. “We’re already out a chair. You tear the toilet apart and we’ll both end up using the cat box. I mean that!”
“Meow-meow, meeyaw-mew, nag-nag,” he mimicked, missing every nuance and change of tone, though he got the drift. He hit the light switch, and shuffled back down the hall. “Catch ya in the morning, cat.”
But she’d already squeezed through the widening gap in his door ahead of him. Crouched under his four-poster, she waited while the mattress creaked, then rebounded above her, waited till his breathing slowed and deepened. Then, with all the grace and weight of a shadow, she leapt onto his bed.
Somewhere beyond the hulking shoulders of RI Gen, the moon was shining. Its reflected glow lent enough light for cat eyes to see.
Sam lay on his back, one arm thrown over head. As always, sleep softened his angles, gentled the force of his quirky character. He looked not a year older than the last time she’d lain awake watching him sleep. Oh, Sam…
She crept closer on cat feet. Sam, I know sometimes you hear me best when you aren’t listening, so hear me now… I’m sorry, so sorry, I didn’t trust you, love. Her mouth hovered a hairbreadth from his skin. If she kissed him, he’d wake and surely throw her out. Instead, she breathed out a kiss…breathed in, tasting his skin. Oh, yes, I remember this, kissing you awake when I couldn’t sleep.
He smiled, stretched luxuriously, growled a wordless, sleeping welcome.
WAS IT THE PAST she was seeing, the future, or only a wistful dream, and did it even matter?
Her leg slid across his body, so that she knelt astride, no more weight than a shadow. Oh, love…
Her fingers spread, spanned his rib cage, rode warm velvet skin, crisp curling hair, the hard swell of his chest, till they cupped the width of his shoulders. Her lips sought the pulse at his throat and moved, one kiss per beat…kiss, pulse, kiss, pulse…her kisses quickening as his blood surged.
Her hands slid slowly outward along his arms, molding themselves to curve of muscle, angle of bone, corded sinew, till they found his waiting fingers.
Fingers twined, held. Her breasts flattened to his. Mouths fused in liquid, groaning wonder.
Silken slide of skin across sheet, hair across cheek. His lips at her breast, her cry that sounded like pain and was not.
Heart calling to heart, Come closer.
Wet silk sliding. Softness mating to hardness, aching emptiness to shaped desire—fusion. And then…fire.
Heart pressed to heart. Incredulous, breathless laughter. Oh, yes, I remember…
Then sleep…sleep…rocking horse hearts rocking off to sleep. Moon walking her way across the sky…
And no thoughts for the dawn.
SHE AWOKE TO THE SCENT of his skin, the safe cave of his arms, the slow distant throb of his heart. Awoke, smiling. Jessica opened her eyes to the tan, bristly curve of his throat, arching like a roof overhead. She lay on her back, cuddled tight in his arms. Love. She licked him—and froze. Her tongue was too pink, too long, too exquisitely curled. Not her own. Not human. “Noooooo!”
“Uh!” Sam bolted upright, his breath stuttering, his eyes staring wildly around the room, then down to her. “Aaagh! How did you—Where did she—” His eyes swept the room and returned, widening in horror. “Omigod.”
“I was a woman last night,” she wailed. “I was. Don’t look at me like that!”
“I didn’t—You didn’t—” He swiped a hand up through his hair, shook his head as if he could shake the thought out. “Brrrrrrrr!”
“Oh, stop it, that was me, last night.” Or was it a dream?
“What a dream.” Sam shuddered. Then he scooped a hand under her stomach and dumped her off the bed. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“Ouch!” From heaven to the cold, cold floor in less than a minute. Tears gathered, found no outlet. Mortification slid rapidly downhill toward icy rage—her tail was there already, slashing the air behind her.
“It was a dream, wasn’t it?” Sam swung his legs off the bed and sat, shaking his head. “Cats. I don’t even like cats.”
“Oooooh!” Spinning around, she nailed his shin with a right, then a left, not caring at all if her claws were sheathed or not.
“Hey!” He swung his legs up out of reach. “What’s with you, devil cat?”
“Your morning-after manners are…are despicable, she hissed, backing away from him. “If that’s being human, I’d as soon stay a cat!” Tail in high dudgeon, chin haughty, she stalked from the room.
She cut him dead for the next hour, turning her back on all overtures, until he entered the living room, ready to leave for the hospital. He walked straight to the carrier, opened it, then turning, whistled and patted the side of the bag. “Come on, Jez, let’s go. Come on, girl.”
Eyes narrowed, she glanced over her shoulder. “I beg your pardon?” She looked the other way. “Is there a dog in the room, or just an ignorant Texan?”
“Move it. She blinked for you yesterday. From now on, you’re part of the wake-up team.”
“And if I don’t care to go?” Though of course, she wanted to.
Sam scooped her up and, ignoring her snarls, stuffed her into the bag.
THEIR VISIT STARTED precisely as it had the day before. No change in the patient overnight. No change in the attitude of the nurses, who still treated her body like an oversize porcelain doll, inanimate, unfeeling, rather expensive. No change in her own spirit’s stubborn immobility. She sat by her motionless body and even licked her pale face, but her body never blinked. Perhaps Sam had imagined that.
All that had changed was their hopes. Each of them was noticeably bluer today, though Sam continued his nonstop, lighthearted babble. But now it held the faintest edge of desperation. You can’t keep this up, Jessica thought, watching him from where she lay curled in the cozy angle between her own arm and side. You’ll run out of patience and ideas and even time. He was director of one of the most famous research labs in the country. Such an institution couldn’t run itself for long. And then what, oh God, then what?
No one here to fight for her, or to care. And she and Cattoo, what would be their fate? Fobbed off on some nurse? Or dropped at the pound on his way out of town?
“You’re looking pretty glum, fur-ball.” Sam slid a hand under her and hauled her into his lap. “I guess cats do have their uses,” he admitted, directing his words over her head while he rubbed her back. “Furry water bottles on cold nights. Sounding boards, when you’re working out a line of thought. Good place to stow your leftovers…” Lifting her, he turned her and held her against his chest with one arm while he stroked her with the other. He stared down into her eyes. “Something warm to hang on to, when you’re lonesome or scared half to death…” His arm tightened.
Oh, Sam. Her claws hooked delicately into his shirt. Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me again. I’ll be there for you if you’ll be there for me.
His eyes widened. His heart lurched, then gathered speed. You hear me, she realized. You know this is me, don’t you? Don’t you?
“Jess!” he cried hoarsely, and shook his head. “Sometimes I think I’m goin’ crazy.”
You’re not! You’re just seeing me, that’s all. That’s everything!
They both jumped at the knock on their door. Jessica squeaked as Sam plucked her off his shirt, whipped across the room and practically slam-dunked her into her carrier. The zipper snicked overhead. “Come in,” he called as he turned.
“Good morning, Sam,” purred a gay, familiar voice.
Jessica jammed her eye to an air hole. That voice. It couldn’t be.
But it was. Raye Talbot leaned back against the door, closing it with a slow back thrust of her hip. “Sorry I couldn’t stop by yesterday.” Her smile was intimate, brilliant. “But I thought about you.” Her sparkling, blackeyed gaze stayed fixed on Sam even as she asked, “How’s our patient doing today? Any change?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“NOPE, SHE’S STILL takin’ it easy,” Sam drawled. “Doctor’s week off.” He stayed on his feet while Raye circled the bed, high heels ticking slowly.
My God, she’s been here before! Jessica realized as the psychiatrist chose the chair beside the bed with no hesitation while Sam sat again on the edge of the mattress. Every hair in her pelt stood rigid as a needle piercing her flesh— her goose bumps ached right down to her toenails. A growl moaned silently within. She clenched her teeth to keep it back.
“And you, Sam?” Raye asked with a sympathy ever so slightly too soft to be professional. “How are you holding up?”
“Oh, fine and dandy.” Sam’s brows twitched under Raye’s warm, unblinking gaze, then he looked back to Jessica’s body. “I’ve been talking her head off, but so far she’s putting up with me.”
“And so she should, lucky girl.” Raye reached to lay a hand on Jessica’s arm. “Jessica? It’s Raye, kiddo. How are you doing?”
I’ll tell you how I’m doing. I’m standing here in a cat coat contemplating scratching your eyes out, that’s how I’m doing! Jessica drove her claws into the flooring of her bag and shivered with horror. The smell of cinnamon and musk was so strong she could almost gag on it. What do you want, Raye? Haven’t you taken enough from me?
But that was an easy question to answer. Raye was still following her one rule in life—Never let anyone get in your way. Having failed to kill Jessica outright, the shrink wanted to make certain a comatose Jessica was no threat to her interests—and would stay that way.
Jessica glanced overhead. The zipper on the carrier was an old one, softened with wear and age. She might be able to hook a claw in it, yank it open. Raye hated and feared cats, after all. If Jessica leapt out and flew at her, she could drive her right out of this room.
Shuddering, she closed her eyes. And then, Jessica? Raye was nobody’s wuss. Raye was an attending doctor of RI Gen. Once she’d recovered from her fright, she’d gently— oh, with the greatest empathy—insist Sam leave his cat at home. This was a hospital, after all, requiring the most sterile environment. Go for her, and you’ll be bounced out of here so fast it’ll make your whiskers frizzle. And you’ll never come back again.
No, she couldn’t risk ejection, then exile. Not when she was the only one who knew to keep an eye on Raye. Keep a lid on it, Jess. Oh, keep a lid on it. Her body was humming with its unvoiced growl—it was Cattoo adding her voice to her own, Jessica realized, shivering with redoubled loathing. Down, girl. We can’t afford to. Not now. Not yet.
“You know that dress I tried on—the other night when we went shopping at Emerald Mall?” Raye squeezed Jessica’s arm. “The red silk one, cut down to here? Well, I decided you were right, that it was a dress in a lifetime. I took out a second mortgage, then went back and bought it. I’ll sneak it in and model it for you tomorrow.”
As if I would’ve been caught dead shopping with you! For something as unsubtle as a red silk, cut to the equator? Jessica’s tail lashed the inside of the bag. But there was no way for Sam to know, was there, that they hadn’t been the best of friends? It would seem plausible, two women doctors in a world mainly male, their offices located right across the hall from each other. There’d be no apparent reason for the psychiatrist to lie about the relationship.
Still touching Jessica, Raye switched her attention to Sam. “Did you find that little cafe I recommended? The Jamaican?”
He nodded. “You were right. It was the real thing. Blowtorch jerk chicken, cane rum, authentic cockroaches skittering across the floor. The aroma of authentic Jamaican postprandial cigars driftin’ out from the back room.”
Raye laughed deep in her throat and nodded, eyes shining. “Well, if you liked that place, I’d feel safe recommending this little Thai place I know. It’s only for the stout of heart and the cast-iron stomach, but—”
Sam laughed. “Say no more, sounds like my kind of place. You like Thai, too, huh?”
Oh, God. Jessica had thought her heart was beating at its maximum load, but now it shifted into overdrive. Oh, God—she’s coming on to him like a Mack truck! And with her damnable, unerring instinct for people’s weaknesses, Raye had already found a point of connection.
“The problem is,” Raye was saying, “I’ve only been there once or twice. It’s in a part of town where a woman only goes with a…man.” She looked down, as if suddenly embarrassed, then looked up with her ironic, self-mocking smile. “So I don’t remember the street names well enough to draw you a map. I’d just have to show you some night…”
“Sure, we’ll do that.” Sam glanced down at Jessica, then took her limp hand. “I was telling you the other day, Jess, down in New York, ’bout pad thai, remember? I’ll bring some back for you. Hospital chow isn’t fit for cats.” His eyes flicked to the carrier and he reddened.
Thanks ever so much, Sam. His drawl was growing more noticeable, a sign that he enjoyed Raye’s attention, in spite of the fact that he was still focused on Jessica’s body. But then, why should he not? Raye might not be a blonde, and she wasn’t quite beautiful, but whatever she had, it was that quality that made happily married men falter, then turn to glance over their shoulders when they passed it on the street. Raye looked dangerous, and available, if only you were man enough—like a parked Ferrari, with its door ajar and its key in the ignition. Take me if you dare.
You Again Page 21
