by Lise Horton
“I’ll bring the candles if you bring the penis. Page 110. AN LB.” Hitting Send, she smiled to herself. Nick’s dominant lovemaking gave her a sensual thrill and her clue was a sneaky way of letting him know she enjoyed submitting to him. She hoped he read the hot, torrid words and saw himself as she did. Like Nin’s charcoal-black-eyed demon, pounding into her. She was his to initiate into all the most decadent, the most erotic pastimes, to drug with his very touch.
During a brief afternoon break, her phone rang. Hoping for Nick, despite her good intentions to stay realistic about their relationship, she was disappointed when an unknown number popped up.
“Hello?”
“Serafina? It’s Cara—Nick’s sister.”
“Hi, Cara. How are you? Is everything going okay with the baby?”
“I feel like garbage, but the little bugger’s hanging in there. I hounded Nick until he gave me your cell number. I hope that’s okay?”
“Absolutely. I’m sorry I couldn’t be at dinner last Sunday. Taking on an extra course is killing me.”
“No apologies necessary. You can make it up to me and Mom by saying yes to a girl’s night on Saturday. Rocco is still out of town and Mom decided to throw Dad out for the night. You, me, Gia and Mom. We’ll make margaritas I will be forced to sit and watch you drink, and we’ll get to know each other.”
She sighed. Here it was again. Things with Nick were amazing, but she couldn’t be certain it was going to last. Getting closer to his family was another big step. It scared her.
“Serafina?”
“That sounds like fun.” It didn’t. It was nerve-racking to be strengthening these bonds when she had no real idea where her relationship with him might be headed. But the ladies were lovely and fun and she enjoyed their company. Besides, she wanted to talk to Gia and make sure she was all right.
“Great. Mom will be thrilled. She’s already fretting over what to cook.”
“She doesn’t have to cook on my account.”
“Oh, please, are you kidding me? Trying to keep her from cooking for company would be like holding back the Gang Green defensive line.” Cara laughed, then groaned. “Sorry, even laughing is a pain these days.”
“When are you due?”
“Not for six weeks, if you can believe it. I’m as big as a house. I put on more weight this time too, but nothing I do seems to help.”
She had no words of consolation to offer.
“Don’t mind my whining. But I swear, Rocco better not come near me with that thing of his after this baby’s born.”
She laughed at the woman’s grumpy complaint, but a familiar twinge of sorrow dampened the humor of the situation for her.
“I’m sorry, Cara, I have to head to another class. I can get to your parents’ by subway, right?”
“Absolutely. Just catch the E train and get off at the 71st Avenue Forest Hills stop. We’re just a couple of blocks from there. Or you can grab the Long Island Railroad to the Forest Hills station and Mom can come pick you up.”
“I don’t want anyone to bother, so I’ll take the subway.”
“How about a compromise? Mom can make Dad drive you back to the train later so you don’t have to roam around in the dark. Besides, you’ll be smashed if we have our way. Mom’s margaritas are killer. In fact, I think I’ll have her bring a pitcher to the delivery room. Later!”
She got through her next class and even managed to sit through an impromptu meeting called by Ralph, during which he laid down the law to Elizabeth and refused to allow her to steamroll him, or the rest of the instructors in the department. When she dragged herself out of the building afterward, hoping that perhaps his plans had changed and Nick’s red truck would be waiting, the disappointment of his absence wiped her out. Thinking back to Caroline’s probing questions, she had to wonder: Was it worth it? All other issues aside, sooner or later the issue of motherhood would come up and she didn’t think their relationship could surmount that obstacle. She walked wearily to the subway and headed home, thoughts of a hot meal, a glass of wine and an evening of grading papers occupying her mind.
It was the last week of April, but the evening was still a bit chilly, and she’d pulled on her sweater as she exited the subway. A crowd of people pushed past her, and she concentrated on not being jostled. She reached the corner of the intersection at 50th Street and Eighth Avenue and waited at the front of the rush-hour crowd for the light to change as the traffic zoomed by. Since her recent fall, she was cautious and stood a safe distance back from the curb. Several cars had picked up speed in order to beat the light and she was mentally chastising them when a sudden brutal shove sent her flying off the sidewalk and directly into the oncoming traffic. A horrific squealing of tires sounded around her as she fell, slamming her shoulder and head hard on the asphalt.
* * *
Nick broke into a run as he reached the entry of the emergency room of Roosevelt Hospital. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding as he breached the doors and ran to the triage admitting desk.
“I got a call from the police. Serafina Luca was brought here in an ambulance and they said something about a car accident?”
The nurse punched a few buttons on the computer, then nodded. “The neurologist is with her now. She’s just had an MRI and the doctor should be out soon to speak with you.”
“Is she all right?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t tell you anything. As I said, the doctor will have more details.”
Typical of any New York City waiting room, the ER of the west side hospital was mobbed and he was barely able to stand it. He wanted to pound his hands on something, smash something, yell at the top of his lungs. No, actually, what he wanted was to hold Serafina in his arms and make sure she was fine. What in the hell had happened to her? All he knew was that there’d been some kind of accident. He would never have even gotten a call except at some point she’d been conscious and given them his name as her emergency contact. He’d been out the door before they hung up.
The melee of the waiting room got on his nerves. The screaming children, bellowing adults, and nurses calling out for patients made his head throb. He kept his focus on the door waiting for the doctor, and every time someone came out, he bolted forward, hoping to be called. After nearly an hour he was ready to tear out his hair, but just when he thought he’d lose his mind entirely, an Indian doctor stuck her head out the door and called his name.
“Here!” He hurried forward and followed the petite physician back through a maze of corridors lined with gurneys, patients, technicians and cops. Behind a curtain he finally caught sight of Serafina.
“Professor!” In an instant, he was at her side, taking her hand and staring into her eyes as she looked blearily back at him. The ghost of a smile on her bruised face made him feel as if his heart would beat out of his chest.
“Mr. Stellato, Ms. Luca, I’m pleased to report that the MRI shows you have had only the mildest of concussions. You’ve got numerous contusions and a badly bruised, possibly sprained shoulder, but nothing’s fractured or dislocated, so you are going to be just fine.”
“Thank God.” He was shocked to feel tears threaten, but he gulped over the lump in his throat and leaned in to place a light kiss on her blood-encrusted cheek. “How do you feel?”
She swallowed loudly, and her voice was rough. “My head hurts, my shoulder hurts and I’m feeling pretty lucky right about now. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m glad you told them to call me. I’d have been furious if you hadn’t.”
“I didn’t have anyone else.” Her lip trembled.
The sad confession made him cringe and the bleak expression on her face tore at him. What could it possibly be like to know there was no one in the world to call when you needed them? The fact that she’d reached out to him made his thoughts churn. He’d never have imagined that fewer than three weeks ago, he’d meet a woman who would change his world, but that’s exactly what Serafina Luca had done. The wren
ching pain he’d felt when they told him she’d been hurt was like a lightning bolt of realization. He knew the kind of future he wanted, and it had to include this beautiful, brilliant woman. He wished he knew why she welcomed his protection sometimes, like now, yet at others seemed to resent it. Berto had been right. They had to clear the air.
“You’ve got me. Don’t you ever forget it.” She looked so lost, so damaged lying there. He kissed both her hands, clutching them too hard. He relaxed and checked out her poor face. “Doctor, is she being released?”
“As long as she isn’t going to be alone, yes, I can release her. I’m sure there won’t be any complications, but it’s always best if there’s someone who can be with a patient who’s had head trauma.”
“Absolutely.” He looked down at her, noting her wide eyes. She looked like exactly what she was. Young, hurt, scared and alone. He wasn’t going to debate it with her. “You’ll stay with me.”
“Excellent. Let me go complete the paperwork. Stop at the reception desk and sign off and you’re good to go. I’m certain everything will be fine. As I said, your concussion was mild, but if your headaches should get worse or if you feel unreasonably sleepy or nauseated, get to the doctor or another ER right away.”
“I’ve heard you should wake someone up every so often if they’ve had a concussion?” he asked.
“I don’t think that will be necessary unless Ms. Luca begins to feel worse.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Her voice was weak, and husky either from dryness, or tears, or both.
When the doctor left, he looked down at her, shaking his head. “You scared the crap out of me. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. I was standing waiting to cross at the intersection and someone knocked into me, or shoved me, and I fell.”
“On purpose?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea. It was crowded; a lot of people had just come out of the subway. I can’t believe it’s the second time in two weeks.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I tripped and fell off the sidewalk last Monday. Remember the day it rained so hard? Some homeless man yelled at me from a doorway and I jumped to get away from him, and fell into the street and banged up my knees.”
“Christ, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this.” He took a moment to calm himself and ran his hands through his hair. “As long as you’re all right. Promise me you won’t do that again. I practically had a heart attack. Did the police talk to you? Did anyone else see anything?”
“I don’t know. I was in and out for a little bit, but the police were there. Maybe they took statements.”
“I’ll check tomorrow and see what they say.”
The doctor stuck her head in the room. “You can leave anytime you want, Ms. Luca. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Here, let me help you.” The plastic bag on the chair next to the bed held her clothes, which were rumpled, dirty, and had a few spots of blood from some of the scratches. He pulled the drapes shut and helped her out of the gown, wincing at the massive scrape and the bruising that spread from her neck halfway down her back on one side. Clearly she’d been spared more serious head injury because her shoulder hit the ground first. If it had happened differently, she might have been in far worse shape.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry, babe. Here.” He bent down to ease her arm into the sleeve of her sweater without forcing her to lift it. Then he had her stand up so he could pull her skirt up and fasten it for her. Once she was dressed again, he put her shoes on and then held out his arm.
“Lean on me, okay?”
“That sounds really nice, Nick. I think I will.”
“You’d better.” About freaking time. He kissed her hair and coughed to fight the lump in his throat.
He moved slowly to accommodate her shuffle, but once the paperwork had been filled out, he led her straight out to the truck. He lifted her into the passenger’s seat over her objections and settled her in as gently as he could. He was impatient to get her home, but drove like a little old lady to avoid jouncing her back and forth. All he wanted now was to get her back to his loft and into bed, where he could curl up with her and protect her. From whatever came her way. For as long as she let him.
In the truck, however, his frustration got the better of him and he slammed a fist on the dashboard. “I hate this. It sucks being useless. Muscles don’t mean shit when I’m looking at your bruises after the fact, when there’s nothing I can do to make you feel better.”
“I have never been as glad to see anyone in my life as I was to see you when you walked in.” Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks in sad little lines. “With such a big family you can’t know how it feels. It is the loneliest, scariest feeling in the world to know that there’s not one single person in the world to look out for you, protect you. Especially when you’re alone and scared.”
“I care.” He touched his palm to her good cheek and she leaned against it. “Serafina, I’ve been waiting to apologize about mouthing off to Elizabeth and for embarrassing you at Sunday dinner with my family, but I’m especially sorry about the other night when my truck was vandalized. I acted like an asshole. I’m damned sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and you didn’t deserve it. I know you can take care of yourself, but I’m just hardwired to be protective of women. It’s what my pop does, it’s what my brothers do. It’s a genetic mutation, I guess.”
She looked at him for a long moment and then smiled despite her tears. A wince of pain passed over her face so he didn’t pursue the subject further. It was a start. There’d be plenty of time for him to grovel some more.
* * *
Once they were back at his loft he got her cleaned up and slathered some of his grandmother’s salve on the scrapes, then helped her change into one of his soft old tees. Finally, she was set up in bed, leaning back on a mountain of pillows. He got her some minestrone soup and a glass of ginger ale and sat by her, nudging her to eat.
“I’m really not hungry.”
“I’m in charge tonight, so eat. It’ll help settle your stomach and you’ll sleep better.”
“I bet that’s your mother’s wisdom?”
“Probably, but it works. As soon as you’re done you can go to sleep. I’ll stay right here by you.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“That’s the post-adrenaline crash. Trust me, I know what it is like.”
“Can you call your mom or Cara for me? They invited me to come over on Saturday night, but I don’t think I can.”
“Really?” He’d get some details on that little gathering, because he didn’t trust the Stellato women to keep their noses out of his business for a hot second. The number of ways they could screw things up for him were limitless. “Don’t sweat it. I hope you’ll be feeling okay by then, but I’ll definitely call. They’d want to know what happened and that you’re all right. They’ll understand.”
She sipped a few more spoonfuls of soup and then begged him to let her sleep. He took her tray out to the kitchen, then sat beside her on the bed, stroking her hair until she drifted off.
He watched her, wondering what in the world had happened. The injured side of her face was swollen, and her beautiful skin was mottled with bruising that would turn that ugly purple-green. She’d be miserable. Her lips twisted every so often as she slept, as if she was reliving the entire episode. He was damned furious that he hadn’t been with her, hadn’t been there for her. The image of her sitting alone in the ER wasn’t going away for a long time.
As soon as she was asleep he slipped to his desk and called Cara, his mom and even Gia. Naturally the beast didn’t pick up, but he left a message and told her to call him back. He’d have to have a talk with her, but he would take The Professor’s advice and make sure she knew he supported her. Even if she was a little pervert.
Everyone was finally assured that Serafina would be fine, and his mom told him to
tell her the invitation still stood if she felt well enough on Saturday. She refused to give him details, just said girls needed time away from the men, and how was she going to get to know her if they didn’t get together and let their hair down?
“You take good care of her. You’re all she’s got.” Her final words hit him hard and he determined to do exactly that.
The words stuck with him until long after midnight. He took a quick, warm shower and then climbed under the covers. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he couldn’t resist touching her, so he gently wrapped her in his arms and held her until she relaxed in sleep. When she snuggled closer with a sigh, his heart pounded. His to protect.
“I care, Professor. Never doubt it.”
* * *
“I have to call the dean, but I’m not sure there’s anyone to cover my classes. Maybe I should just go in.”
“No. Put that pretty ass back on the bed.”
“Nick.”
“You are not going anywhere. You told me yourself you still have a killer headache.”
“I can take a couple of aspirin.”
“No.”
“Do not treat me like a child.”
He gritted his teeth at the same old refrain. “You want childish? Fine. I’ve hidden your clothes, so unless you’re going to teach in my authentic, but ratty, Sticky Fingers T-shirt, you’re not going anywhere.”
“You have got to be kidding!”
“Dead serious. Because you could have been.”
“Dead? Well, I’m not. Just sore.”
“And it’s a good thing you’re injured, otherwise I’d make sure there was one part of you that was very sore.”
She snorted and gave him a dirty look, so he tried another tactic. He backed her against the bed until she had no choice by to sit down, trapped between his spread thighs. She looked up at him and he scowled down.
“You can email the lessons to the students. They can email you assignments. You can offer a makeup class. I’m sure there are loads of work-arounds for missing a single day. Think of it as a surprise free afternoon, for them and for you.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “Let me take care of you today. I’ve already taken the day off.”
