Fireworks of Love

by Jessica Gray

  Much later, he rolled off of her, dealt with the condom and tucked her up against his side. She’d fought him for the longest time, but now she had to acknowledge that she was falling hard for him. For the handsome man from America.

  “It’s still snowing,” she murmured, glancing out the window.

  “Stay here tonight. You can deal with the weather tomorrow,” Rowan said, kissing her nose.

  Joanna pushed aside the thoughts of her studies and rationalized that traffic would still be a mess and it would take her hours to get home anyways. “Okay,” she said, wrapped an arm and leg around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

  Joanna cracked open her eyes when she felt Rowan shift her away from him as he left the bed. It was still dark outside, but the sky was clear.

  “Where are you going?” she asked with a sleepy voice.

  “You may not have class today, but I have to work a twenty-four hour shift at the ER,” he said, returning to the bed and kissing her lips.

  “Oh. I forgot about that.” She felt guilty for keeping him up half of the night, and then her skin flashed red with the memory of all the things he’d done to her. Things she hadn’t even imagined existed.

  A now familiar tingling pooled between her thighs as he deepened the kiss, before he wrenched himself away from her.

  “I really, really need to leave,” he said with a hungry glance at her naked body, only half covered by the blanket. “But I’ll be back for more.”

  Joanna’s skin went from tingles to scorching burns. “You will?”

  “Definitely.” He grinned. “Now go back to sleep, sweetie. You can stay here as long as you want. I’ll see you right after my shift is over.”

  Joanna nodded and snuggled back down into the sheets as she listened to him shower. She dozed off, but woke up minutes later his words resonating in her head. You can stay here as long as you want. I’ll see you after my shift. She spiraled into panic.

  She jumped out of the bed and dressed in a hurry, ready to flee from a future she didn’t want. But on the way out, she bumped right into him, coming out of the bathroom. His skin glistened with moisture and he wore nothing but a towel slung around his hips. The sight was alluring, but she couldn’t – she wouldn’t – let herself be trapped into giving up her dreams. Her career. Her life.

  “I won’t marry you!” she yelled at him and rushed into the hallway, grabbing her coat, gloves and hat from the rack and then running to the elevator as if the devil impersonated nipped at her heels.

  On the streets, snowplows had taken care of the huge amounts of snow and traffic was almost back to normal. She jumped onto the first bus that went her direction and released a long breath once the vehicle drove around the corner and the Hai Run complex slipped out of sight. No, she wouldn’t give up her dreams for a man.

  When she arrived at the dormitory, her roommates assailed her with a million questions about the past night, but she waved them away and said she’d been stuck near the center by the freak snowstorm and had spent the night in one of the makeshift shelters. Thankfully, none of them questioned her excuse, as nobody knew she’d been with Rowan after classes. And she intended to keep it that way. No more Rowan. Last night had been nice, but she needed to focus on her studies. Her life. Not his.

  After taking a lukewarm shower and changing into fresh clothes, Joanna joined her girlfriends decorating the room for the upcoming New Year. They swept, wiped and polished the entire room from floor to ceiling. Tidied their lockers, threw out old stuff and then sat down to continue crafting decorations from the materials they’d bought several days ago.

  “Have you seen the Cosmo article about Beijing’s most eligible bachelors?” One of the girls giggled and showed the magazine around. Nelson’s picture and the interview with him occupied an entire page and Joanna watched how Mei’s beautiful face contorted into an ugly grimace.

  “Give me that!” Mei yelled and snatched the magazine. “That…liar…bastard…traitor!”

  “Isn’t he one of the ER residents?” Lin asked, but quickly lowered her eyes, when Mei shot daggers at her.

  “Mei went out with him and he told her that he was married,” another girl explained.

  “How mean,” Lin said.

  Joanna sighed. Another reason to stay away from Rowan. She didn’t want anyone to think she was after him because of his money. She clapped her hands and said, “Come on. No guys are allowed in this building. Let’s not talk about them either.”

  “Jin Yue is right. Let’s finish our decorations,” another girl chimed in.

  They fashioned lanterns and door signs, and carefully calligraphed lucky characters on red envelopes. Some of them they stuffed with yuan notes to give to each other on New Year’s Eve and then they hung the rest of the envelopes on the kumquat tree outside. By the time they had finished, several hours had passed and Joanna almost forgot about Rowan. Just almost – because every time she took a step, her sore muscles reminded her of the unaccustomed exercise and the shivers of ecstasy he’d drawn from her body.

  Satisfied with the festive look of their dormitory, they went to the canteen for lunch, Mei and Joanna both hoping not to meet a certain ER resident.

  Chapter 24

  Rowan stood bedazzled in his bedroom, trying to process what had just happened. I’m not marrying you! She had yelled at him. Not that he had asked her to. But before he could find out what she was talking about, she’d fled his apartment and dashed for the elevator.

  He glanced at his watch. Shit! He was already running late for his shift. With a glance out the window he confirmed that Chinese workers and snow plows had efficiently dealt with tons and tons of snow overnight and the traffic was flowing again. But he couldn’t go after Joanna and talk with her. Some days he hated his job. Any office job, or even that stupid internship at the stupid TCM department – he wouldn’t hesitate for one moment to go after her, but a shift at the ER? No way.

  He grabbed his coat and left the apartment, hailing a taxi on the street. While the driver engaged in the usual suicidal traffic behavior, Rowan pulled out his phone.

  Joanna. Please. Let’s talk after my shift.

  Her response came within seconds. No. I’m not that kind of woman.

  What kind of woman? His head ached with trying to decipher her cryptic words. Whatever had gotten into her, he had no idea. When he arrived at the hospital, his head was hammering worse than after a hard night of drinking and his entire body ached. I’m getting old. Too little sleep and too much action between the sheets. He grinned for a moment, before the reality of Joanna’s dramatic exit seeped in. Shaking his aching head, he changed into his scrubs and then popped a few painkillers, before he checked in for work.

  “Thank God, you’re here,” the head physician said. “Like it’s not enough that we had this freak snowstorm and double the emergencies than usual, but a colleague called in sick with the flu.”

  “I’m here and ready to work,” Rowan said, shutting out all thoughts of Joanna. He needed to focus on his next patient.

  “Great. Operating room one. Traffic accident. Crushed legs.”

  Rowan rushed from one patient to the next, with barely time to grab lunch. After more than twelve hours on his feet, he finally had the time to collapse on the cot in the doctor’s room.

  “Want one, too?” Nelson’s asked and offered a steaming bowl of instant noodles.

  “No thanks, I’m not hungry,” Rowan answered. The headache was killing him and despite the fact that he’d not eaten anything all day, the thought of food caused him to choke.

  “That bad?” Nelson handed him a mug of strong coffee.

  “Worse. I lost two patients and two more are in critical condition. I didn’t know you’re on duty this weekend.”

  “Wasn’t. They called me in. Short-staffed,” Nelson explained while wolfing down his noodles.

  Rowan took a sip of his coffee and grimaced when swallowing. Sore throat. Just perfect.

  “You look lik
e shit, man,” Nelson said.

  “I feel like shit. Probably caught a cold. A nap would be nice.” Rowan forced himself to drink the coffee, hoping the worst influx of emergencies had stopped and he wouldn’t be called on for the next hour or two.

  “Yeah. Sleep. I’ll cover for you for the next hour—” Nelson was interrupted by the intercom signal announcing a mass collision on the freeway to the airport. Everyone was put on high alert as the first ambulance would arrive within ten minutes.

  “Fuck!” Rowan cursed. So much for taking a nap.

  “Go to the pharmacist and get some of the good stuff. Looks like we’ll be busy all night,” Nelson said and left to check in at his station.

  Rowan took Nelson’s advice and made a beeline to the hospital pharmacy to get some drugs that would help him make it through the night without collapsing onto the operating table.

  His shift ended, but Rowan had to stay for another fourteen hours. He walked and worked like a zombie, solely focused on the essential hand movements he had to perform. Every few hours he popped more medicine, more pain killers, more drugs just to stay on his feet.

  Finally the head physician announced the red alert was over and everyone not on normal duty could go home. Nelson all but dragged Rowan into a taxi and then into his apartment.

  “You sure you’ll be fine?” he asked Rowan one last time.

  “Yeah. Call a doctor if I don’t make it to the clinic by the end of the week.” Rowan joked with a weak smile. Then he crawled into bed and fell into an exhausted and fitful sleep.

  When he woke up with the chills, darkness enveloped his bedroom and he had no idea whether it was morning or evening. Nor did he care. He dragged himself to the kitchen to make hot tea and returned to his bed. The chills stopped and he sweated like crazy. Painkillers helped against the pounding headache, but the running nose and the sore throat prevented him from sleeping well.

  ***

  Joanna arrived at the TCM department Monday morning, with a dreadful feeling. She’d pushed thoughts of Rowan far away throughout the weekend, but now she would have to confront him. He’d most likely demand an explanation. But he wasn’t there and nobody knew why.

  Later news of the mass collision on the weekend made the rounds and she thought of Rowan. Every doctor did crazy forty-eight hour shifts on a regular basis, but usually there was enough down time to squeeze in a few naps here and there. But with red alert and hundreds of emergencies pouring into the ER, he’d most likely not slept at all. Poor guy. He had to work all weekend. Despite her determination not to get involved with him, she sympathized with him.

  When Rowan didn’t show up all day and nobody had heard from him either, she grew worried. He would at least have called in at the department, right? The secretary called both his beeper and his cell phone – nothing.

  Maybe something had happened to him? In front of Joanna’s inner eyes appeared awful pictures of a mutilated Rowan bleeding to death somewhere. The worry mixed with a stab of guilt, and something else. A powerful energy starting from her heart and radiating into her entire being.

  Love. She shook her head. No way, I’m not in love. We’ve known each other for less than two weeks. But by the time her shift ended, she was agonizing about Rowans whereabouts and decided to visit his apartment.

  The janitor recognized her and was kind enough to unlock the door for her. Rowan’s coat hung on the rack and she sighed with relief as she thanked the janitor.

  “Rowan,” she called from the door, but no answer came. She tiptoed into the apartment, checking the kitchen and the bathroom. Then she approached the bedroom door with trepidation. She knocked. Nothing.

  The door handle in her hand, she fought with herself whether to enter or not. From inside came a long groan and she flushed. What if he was there with another woman? The thought speared her heart.

  “Rowan? Are you there?” Her voice almost broke off.

  Still no answer. She pressed her ear against the door and held her breath. Silence. Then shuffling and his voice. “Sweetheart…miss you…come…don’t...fallen in love with you.”

  Joanna’s heart broke into a million pieces. He was well and with another woman. The red rage constricted her throat and she quickly retreated from the door, tears forming in her eyes. She tiptoed back to the door, intent to leave this man forever. Just when she reached the door, a permeating whimper of pain cut through the air. It chilled her to the bone and she couldn’t help but turn on her heels and burst through the bedroom door.

  Her breath stilled.

  Rowan lay in his bed, flaming skin, a feverish glance in his green eyes.

  “What…Joanna? You?”

  “Yes. What’s wrong with you?” She wasn’t sure whether he had understood her or not and sat beside him on the bed, putting her hand on his burning forehead.

  “So good…cool. I’m so thirsty…” he murmured with glossy eyes.

  Joanna brought him a glass of water and helped him drink it. His mind seemed to clear up.

  “How did you get in?” he murmured, sinking back against the pillows.

  “The janitor let me in. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Just the flu. It’ll pass.” He didn’t look like it would pass anytime soon. Joanna’s heart squeezed at how weak he looked, his pale face almost the same color as the bed sheets.

  “Did you take something?” she asked, shaking her head. It was a miracle that he’d been able to work in this condition.

  “Pain killers, amphetamines and some other stuff.” Rowan’s eyes fluttered shut from the effort.

  Joanna groaned. Of course, the whole slew of medicine the hospital pharmacy offered. None of which actually helped, but only subdued the symptoms and slowed down the healing process.

  “How high is your fever?” she asked, putting her cool hand on his burning forehead again.

  “No idea…my head is bursting…”

  “What you need is a real cure and not more painkillers. Have you been sweating? Chills? Headache?” Joanna fired a rapid succession of questions at him.

  “Yes to all.”

  “What about your throat? Is it sore and is your mouth unusually dry?”

  “Yes…why all these questions?” he asked, ending on a nasty cough.

  “How long have you been coughing?” She ignored his question and kept firing her own.

  “Just now.”

  “Is your tongue coated?”

  “I don’t know.” When she didn’t respond, he sighed, “I suppose you want me to show you?”

  “Yes.” She smiled as he stuck out his tongue at her. “There’s a thin yellow coating on your tongue.”

  “Whatever.” He breathed as if he’d just finished a spurt.

  “Rowan, you have wind-heat pattern, not the flu,” Joanna said, feeling like the real doctor she was training to be.

  He barked a laugh that ended in a painful grimace from the ache lancing through his throat and he started coughing again. “I have a simple flu.”

  “Believe what you will, but I’m going to make you a cure.”

  “Another one of your herbal remedies? You really think ginger tea or something is going to heal me miraculously?”

  “Yes, and before you tell me it’s all superstition, I challenge you to give it a try. What can it hurt?” She stared down at him and he nodded.

  “Fine, but it won’t work. Everyone knows that the flu takes seven days with treatment and one week without. There’s no medicine for it.”

  Joanna smiled and walked to the kitchen. She came back with a hot instant chicken broth and held it under his nose. “Drink this and then try to sleep. I’ll go shopping for the herbs and will be back in an hour.”

  “Yes, doctor.” Rowan tried a grin and dutifully put the mug with hot broth to his mouth.

  Chapter 25

  Joanna grabbed his keys from the table and then left to gather the herbs she needed to make a cure for Rowan. When she returned, she found him in a fitful sleep and disappeared int
o the kitchen to prepare the cure.

  She boiled water for tea and added a liberal amount of the proper herbs to the hot water and allowed it to steep before straining it. Once done, she retrieved her set of acupuncture needles from her bag, grateful that they’d needed them today at class. Then she entered the bedroom with the steaming infusion in hand.

  Rowan was awake, squinting his eyes at her. “You still think you can cure my cold with that myth stuff?” he asked.

  “You just wait and see,” Joanna said, just smiling at him. “I need you to sit up and drink this.” She set the cup down on the side table and helped him sit up against the headboard. Then she handed him the cup saying, “Drink it all.”

  Rowan gave her a look but was too sick to bicker with her over it. He sipped the tea and then said, “The last time anyone cared for me while I was sick was my mother when I was fourteen. I had the flu then as well.”

  “You don’t have the flu. Finish drinking your tea,” she said and then unrolled the pouch with her acupuncture needles.

  Rowan blanched when he saw them and physically jolted, sloshing some of the remaining tea over the covers as he edged away from her.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  His eyes were glued to the needles. “What are you going to do with those?”

  “Some doctor you are,” Joanna teased him after one glance into his frightened eyes. “Afraid of a little needle? Every day you cut people up with a scalpel. How can you be afraid of needles?”

  “Let’s just say I prefer to be the one holding the needle.”

  Joanna lowered her voice as if she were talking to a young child. “Rowan, the needles won’t hurt. And I promise you’ll feel better afterwards. Maybe even be able to get some sleep.”

  “I already drank your awful magic potion. We don’t need the needles…”