Mariah: The M Series: Book Two

by Ryanne Anthony

  He got my t-shirt off with crazy ease over my head. After getting my arms out of the sleeves, he put his hand on my bare back, and lifted my head gently by the nape of my neck and eased it slowly over my head.

  “Underwear, too,” Marcus whispered.

  “Yes.”

  He gently slid them down. In no time, he had me naked. I barely felt him remove anything.

  Next, I felt a cool, light sheet cover me and he gently lifted my arms one at a time over the sheet.

  “Air… please.”

  I slowly pointed to the control on the wall by the bedroom door. I heard the flashlight click on.

  “Okay, I see it.”

  I felt the air blow coolly on my face as he switched my head towel.

  “Thank... you.”

  “No, don't talk anymore. Just try to relax,” Marcus murmured, holding my hand while gently stroking the back of it with his thumb. It felt good. Usually, during a migraine, any touch to my skin stung but his touch was comforting, soothing. I liked it.

  We fell silent as I tried to remain still. Finally, Lisa and Nathan returned and Marcus released my hand, to my disappointment. He’d been here long enough so I figured it was time for him to get back to his fiancée.

  “I'm sorry I forgot your clothes, Cookie,” Lisa whispered near my ear.

  “Mom... Pops,” I whispered.

  “We're here, Mariah,” Mom whispered. Her hand replaced Marcus' and she sat gently on the bed.

  “Kit...t-top... drawer...”

  “Shh, shh... I already have it, Cookie,” Pops whispered.

  My arms stiffened and my hands clenched as nausea gripped me.

  “Oh, honey…” Mom whispered, tearfully. She insisted on being with me for each and every migraine, even though it's a struggle to see me in so much pain. She confessed once it was like seeing me in that hospital bed all over again. Still, Mom made me promise to always let her know when one was happening.

  The bed dipped on the other side of me. I feel my arm being lifted gently and someone feeling for a vein in my hand. That had to be Nathan. He knew exactly where my good vein was; it was not his first time at this rodeo.

  I'm tied-off at my wrist and swabbed. I felt a needle prick and cried which only made the pain hurt worse, but I had an entry for a much-needed push of morphine. It’s then taped down to my hand.

  Mom gently brushed away my tears with her fingertips.

  “Here,” Marcus whispered.

  “Are you ready, Bug,” whispered Nathan.

  Mom entwined her fingers in mine and placed her other hand on my forearm to brace herself, as well as me.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Okay.”

  I felt him push the syringe in and the cool liquid invaded my veins. Almost immediately, there was a burning sensation traveling up my arm to my chest then down to my toes. My fists tightened. I clenched my jaw and let out a muted scream. For thirty seconds, tops, it burns like hell, every time. Seventeen years and I've never gotten used to that feeling.

  Still haven’t.

  My forehead towel was replaced with another cold one. My head floated and I felt drowsy. I was about to pass out.

  “Marcus,” I breathed.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “I'm right here.”

  “Please...go... your... fiancée...”

  “She's not my fiancée anymore, baby,” echoed through my brain as I fell into a drug-induced sleep.

  * * *

  Someone's fingers were pushing on my throat. A few seconds later, there was a beep in my ear then they were wrapping something around my bicep. It stung but not too much. A cuff tightened and I winced. My blood pressure was being measured.

  “Sorry, baby,” came the whisper as the cuff was removed. It was Marcus.

  There was a soft kiss on my cheek. Nice. I still couldn’t speak, or move.

  Someone replaced my towel. I heard hushed voices in the hall, outside my room.

  “Are you sure, Marcus,” Pops asked.

  “Absolutely,” he whispered back.

  There was a pause and finally my mother whispered, “Okay. But we'll just be downstairs. I'm not leaving her yet.”

  “Fine,” Marcus whispered. “Nathan, I think she should have another dose.”

  “I agree.”

  “Mom,” I croaked, as loud as I can.

  The bed dipped on my left. “Yes, honey?”

  I raised my hand to her.

  “Of course, honey,” she replied in a whispered sob. Mom fisted my hand gently, putting it against her chest, softly stroking the back of it.

  “S– sorry... every... body”

  “No need,” Pops assured, softly. “Don't talk, Cookie. It's okay.”

  “Here we go, Bug.”

  “K.”

  I felt the burn... I gasped and clenched then waited for sweet sleep again.

  * * *

  My eyes fluttered open and the room was still dark. I couldn't see anything and it was very quiet in the house. I slowly turned my head to the right and glanced at my bedside clock.

  7:13! Damn. No wonder it's quiet. I thought it was much later than that.

  Slowly, I raised my hand to the warm towel on my head and took it off. I gently rubbed my head. I feel tons better, very close to my usual self.

  How had I recovered so quickly? I must’ve read the clock wrong. I turned toward it again. 7:17. Geez. Quick to start, quick to stop? I felt my hand. The needle was gone.

  I felt a desperate need to go to the bathroom but I didn't want to move, scared I might trigger it back. I rubbed my hands over my forehead, trying to decide if I should get up or not.

  Fuck it, I have to pee! I'm gonna go, damn it. I'll just grip the bed and move slowly. I won't bother Lisa; she's probably just now able to get some sleep; plus Nathan is here and they are probably both beyond tired. I felt Nathan taking care of me the whole night, changing my towel, checking my vitals. His strong hands worked gently and swiftly, as usual.

  I thanked God for the day we met. He had helped me through a few of these episodes and I was glad he was there for me again, especially after I sent Marcus away.

  I didn't want to send him away but he wasn’t mine and he didn’t belong here.

  Okay, Hollander. Stop stalling. Get up and go to the bathroom.

  I took a deep breath and dropped my arms down hard. My left hand hit something on the bed.

  “What? What's wrong,” a deep, sleepy, startled voice asked.

  That was not Nathan.

  A familiar scent invaded my nose.

  Marcus.

  “I'm sorry... I can't see you; I didn't know you were there.”

  He took in a sharp breath and released it slowly. I felt tension leaving him as he closed in near my ear.

  “I never thought I'd be so happy to hear complete sentences.”

  Whew... his voice is sending chills everywhere. So deep and soothing.

  “You were here the whole night?”

  “Yes. How long have you been having the migraines?”

  I swallowed hard. I didn't want to talk about this. “Since I was eight.”

  “What's the longest you've gone without one?”

  “229 days.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. My senior year of high school was the best of my life.”

  “Shortest time?”

  “Fifteen hours.”

  “The time between this one and the last?”

  I calculated in my head, February thirteenth to July first.

  “138 days.”

  “Are they always as painful as last night?”

  Feeling like I was being interrogated, I frowned. “Where are you going with this?”

  “I'm just trying to understand the pattern.”

  “It's stress-related,” I said quietly as I rubbed my neck. “I thought I asked you to leave, Marcus. Your fiancée has to be beyond fuming by now.”

  He stayed silent. After a while, he took a deep breath and rolled
on his back.

  “Is Adina the reason you ran from me yesterday? The only reason?”

  I swallowed. Yes, it was and was still the only one. I couldn't understand what kind of woman tolerates her fiancé being A.W.O.L., overnight.

  Unless he lied and said he had an emergency with a child, then she couldn't object.

  That thought made me shudder.

  What kind of man uses an ailing child to explain his absence to his fiancée while staying with the woman he wanted to make his mistress?

  A horrible, unethical one. The kind I never wanted again, anyway.

  Because we now know we deserve much better than that.

  “Yes.”

  “What about Wexler,” he asked quietly.

  “What about Will?”

  “Will, huh?” Marcus scoffed. “I didn't think you had progressed to Will with him. Do you love him?”

  Is he insane?

  He has to be. Damn... I wish I could see his face right now. I decided I didn’t hear him correctly, so I asked, “What?”

  “Do you love Wexler?”

  I sighed heavily. “I only met him that evening at dinner. He asked me for a date, but I never had a chance to respond.” I frowned. Why was I pleading my case to him?

  “That didn't answer my question, Mariah.”

  “Do you think it's possible to fall in love with someone at first sight?”

  “Yes, I do. Now, at least,” he answered. “Please answer my question.”

  “No, damn it,” I snapped. “I do not love Will. All right?”

  His breath caught. He released it with an exhale that was even deeper. He placed a hand on my cheek and leaned in again.

  “I wasn't sure if you heard me last night, Mariah. Adina isn’t my fiancée anymore.”

  I heard the echoes in my head, again. He did tell me that last night. My heart started beating rapidly. He wasn't engaged yesterday. Ooh, I wish I could see his face. I closed my eyes and I saw him, immediately.

  “When did that happen,” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Saturday, but honestly, it's been a long time coming.”

  I felt a panic coming. “Oh.”

  “What is it, Mariah,” he prompted.

  “It wasn't because of me, was it?” I think my voice had gotten lower.

  He chuckled, and kissed my cheek. “No, baby. It had nothing to do with you. Well, maybe a little but not in the way you're thinking. She and I were never a fit. Perfect or otherwise. We were never in love, never intended to marry. It was only for show. That's why we never committed to a date. I was engaged to her because she asked.”

  “Are you serious,” I squeaked.

  “Yes. I'm thirty-five, Mariah. Everyone, including myself, had given up on me ever marrying, years ago. I was sort of settling. Adina's heart was broken and she was in a lot of pain, so she made me an offer that would benefit the both of us. We had two important things in common and she argued that they would both be beneficial in our type of relationship.”

  I swallowed again. Do I really want to know? Yes, I did.

  “What were they? What you had in common.”

  “Neither of us desired children and we enjoyed good sex.”

  I snorted. “How ironic.”

  “Yeah. After a few months, that fizzled. Anyway, she gave her old boyfriend another go, unbeknownst to me. I went to her place Saturday afternoon and found a lab report with her name on it… on the kitchen counter, of all places. I thought she was ill, so I read it. It confirmed a pregnancy. She confessed the tryst and we parted, amicably.”

  “How do you know it's not your baby?”

  “I told you, I don't want children, and I take every precaution to make sure accidents do not happen. Besides that, she and I haven't had sex in five months.”

  What?! Oh God, he does only wants sex from us.

  Let’s ask. “So... why are you here,” I whispered.

  “You don't know?”

  “I really don't, Marcus. What do you want from me?”

  “Just you,” he whispered in my ear and kissed me again. My blood heated.

  Could we do this? He said he never loved her. Has he never loved?

  And children. He doesn't want them. What kind of pediatrician doesn't want at least one of his own?

  I want children, eventually. Maybe not in the next nine months, but hopefully when I'm thirty, at least, and I've always wanted a large family. Do I really want to enter a relationship with a man based solely on attraction? What’ll happen when my biological clock starts ticking and I'm four years into him, if we last that long? Could I walk away? Could he? Would I be happy with it just being him and I, for however long this lasts?

  Shit... I don't know.

  I shook my head in the darkness, even though he couldn't see me. “I can't. We can't.”

  “Why?”

  “I'm not interested in being someone's novelty, Marcus.”

  His breath sharply intakes. “I wasn't asking you to be. I want a relationship with you.”

  I just bet I know exactly what kind of relationship he wants with us.

  I shook my head again, trying to ignore the heat surging through me at that statement. I physically wanted to try with him but not like this. I don’t want to be anyone’s plaything, no matter how attracted I was to him.

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  And I was starving. I didn't have much dinner the night before; I talked through most of it, so my body was screaming to me that breakfast was a must. I've always been a voracious eater. I believe that's half the reason Mom worked in a diner all those years.

  Where is Mom?

  Good question. “When did my mom leave?”

  “Mariah, we have to talk.”

  “My mother, Marcus.”

  He sighed. Obviously not wanting to stress me again, he answered, “They all went to the Cannon party.”

  Huh? It's 7:30 in the morning!

  Isn't it? Slowly, realization crept up. “It's 7:30 a.m., right?”

  He chuckled. My sex tightened at the sound. It's... it’s…

  Incredible.

  “No, baby. It's 7:30 p.m.”

  I sat up and put my head in my hands, groaning loudly.

  “Are you still in pain?”

  “No... Well, it's a two. I need my pills. Did Nathan get me any?”

  “Yes.” Marcus got off the bed and clicked on the night light. He smirked as I rapidly pulled then tucked the sheet over my exposed breasts. He pointed to a bed table. “On the table next to you with a bottled water. I'll go get you some juice.”

  “We don't have any,” I muttered as I reached for the medicine bottle. We didn’t have anything here to eat. My stomach groaned in protest. I swallowed the pill and the whole bottle of water. He clicked the light off. We were in complete darkness again.

  “You do, baby. Your fridge is full, by the way. And all the cabinets. Your mother looked in your refrigerator and, well... now I know where you get your temper. She and Lisa went shopping after checking on you. I think we were unloading groceries all morning,” he informed, chuckling at the memory.

  I could just picture her at the Cannon party, trying to mingle and have a good time but seething over our bare kitchen. Dr. Cannon should find that thoroughly amusing.

  I groaned again. “Great. Just great.”

  Dr. Cannon! The Cannon party!

  “Oh shit!” I gasped then slapped my palm on my forehead. “Ow!”

  Marcus sat on the bed, scooted closer and put an arm around my waist. He kissed my bare shoulder. I jerked as The Pointer Sisters came to mind. ‘Ooh, Fire!’

  “What is it, baby?”

  “Don't call me that.”

  Marcus chuckled at me. “What's the problem?”

  “I was supposed to go to that party. Dr. Cannon invited me personally.”

  “He did,” he asked, sounding nervous. What happened?

  “Yes. Before the Sunday dinner at Mom and Pops’ home. He and
his wife were very nice, very welcoming. Little weird, too.”

  He stiffened. “How?”

  “Dr. Cannon was very attentive, almost overly so. Mrs. Cannon held my hand in both of hers and looked into my eyes for the longest time. I started to get nervous, but then she got all teary-eyed. I don't know what that was all about.”

  Marcus was tense for a few moments, then relaxed again. “That is weird,” he said quietly. “Let's get you to the bathroom then I'll go get your juice. Take my hand.” He placed it on my thigh, very close to my sex.

  Ooh, fire.

  I became fully aware that I was completely naked and remained absolutely still on that bed.

  “Mariah?”

  “Um, will you get my robe, please? Behind the door.” My voice had gone hoarse.

  “Sure, baby,” he murmured, ignoring my earlier demand. I heard his keys rattle and then a small light came on. I tightened the sheet over my breasts. I did not want him to see how aroused I was.

  The small light went off then Marcus put the robe on my shoulders. I pulled my arms through the sleeves then closed the robe quickly, moved the sheet off of me and tied the belt tightly. I was being ridiculous, he can't even see me!

  “It won't work. Even in darkness, it's there; more so. I don't have to see you, baby.”

  I gasped. “How did you know?”

  “I feel what you feel. I have since that first day, you know that.”

  Ooh, fire.

  I couldn't think of anything to say except, “I'm ready now.”

  Marcus put his hand on my thigh once more. I took it and he helped me off the bed. He squeezed my hand as we walked the few steps to the door, my knees knocked the entire way.

  “I'm going to open the door now. The hall is lit from the descending sun. Think you can handle it?”

  “Yes,” I croaked. Great, I'm hoarse again. And it wasn’t the light that concerned me. Since when was it so hard to walk after a migraine?

  It’s not the migraine, girl. It's Dr. Hottie next to you.

  She's right. Fucking conscience always was. Is.

  Marcus opened the door and I blinked until my eyes were re-accustomed to light. He was still holding my hand. I needed him to release it.

  I cleared my throat then looked up at him. “Please bring more water, instead? I need to brush my teeth.”

  “Sure, baby.” His smile went straight to his beautiful eyes. He kissed my temple and I melted. I really liked that gentle, lingering kiss.