Maybe she was too nosy for her own good.
“No. Not for fun.” He provided an answer finally.
Oka-a-y. Hmm. “Where are you from?” Noel hated silences. She wished she didn’t, but found herself searching for something to say every time conversations lulled.
Her mom had been that way and it had embarrassed her sometime.
Maybe she should just sit quietly until he dropped her off. Oh, hell! She was gonna have to call a cab to get back to the hotel. Unless she could convince the shuttle driver to come and pick her up.
But Alfred, the driver, was a stickler for the rules. Probably wouldn’t be willing to shuttle an employee.
“New York.” He filled the silence in for her. “The city.”
She wasn’t going to ask him anything else. She turned to face forward again and closed her eyes. She wasn’t feeling so hot.
“Hey, you okay?” His voice, so detached sounding earlier, now held a hint of concern. For God’s sake, she felt tears burning.
“Yeah.”
Except she wasn’t. She couldn’t lose her job. She couldn’t afford to take on anymore debt. And she wasn’t going to be able to pay a cab to bring her back to the hotel.
And her phone was back at the bar.
“A little nauseous,” she admitted. At a sharp glance from him she held up a hand. “No need to worry, I’m not gonna barf in your car.”
She didn’t think so anyway.
“It’s a rental.” He didn’t sound so concerned now. Annoyed with her would more aptly describe his tone. “I wasn’t worried about the damn car.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this. Really.” She didn’t know what to say. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” Maybe he would pull over, make a u-turn and they could forget all of this had even happened.
He slowed down, but not to turn around. They had arrived at the small but modern hospital. Any ski town worth its salt had excellent facilities for all the ski bunnies with torn ligaments and broken legs. And then there were the idiots who drank too much, got themselves dehydrated and then succumbed to altitude sickness.
This was going to cost a fortune.
He pulled up to the front and parked. Damn, damn, damn! Why couldn’t he just drop her off and go on about her business?
Noel fumbled to unhook her seatbelt while he climbed out and came around to her door.
When he assisted her to the sidewalk, she tried to pull herself together. “Thank you, Mr. Stafford, Elliot.” And then she waved her clean hand a little, hoping he would get the message. If he left her here, she’d just sit for a while and then try to find a ride back to the hotel.
Ignoring her, he locked the car with the press of a button, and proceeded to assist her into the hospital.
His arm felt warm around her. It felt good to lean on him a little, too.
“You didn’t think I would just leave you here, did you?” His breath felt hot on her cheek as he spoke. Snow was coming down now. Big fluffy flakes, not unusual for early April.
The door to the hospital whooshed open automatically and a male attendant in scrubs approached them. The look of horror on his face reminded her of the ridiculous amount of blood covering her shirt. “Wait here, I’ll get a wheelchair.” He held out a halting hand and turned around before Noel could protest.
“It looks so much worse than it is…” She tried trailing after him.
But strong, warm hands held her back. They rubbed up and down her arms. She’d been shivering.
The attendant returned, set what appeared to be a brake, and then Elliot assisted her into the chair.
She’d never sat in a wheelchair before and would have felt ridiculous if she didn’t feel so light headed. Elliott waved the man off and drove her over to the desk. Luckily it wasn’t counter height. Hmm… Imagine that! They must have dealt with this situation a time or two.
Before asking any questions, the lady behind the desk took her arm and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around it. When it began squeezing automatically, the woman returned to her desk.
“Name?”
“Noel Blake.”
“Birthdate?”
Such a simple question. Her brain searched... “Um… December 24th, um…1990.” Yeah, that was right.
“May I see your insurance card?” That would be highly unlikely… considering…
“I don’t have insurance.” There. She’d said it. Now they could send her away in shame.
The woman pursed her lips and then handed her some papers to sign. “This is an acknowledgement that you will be responsible for all charges incurred. Either you or your husband can sign.”
“Oh, but he’s not…” Elliott snagged the form from her and picked up a pen. “Oh, but no!” Noel tried to snatch it back but she couldn’t get close enough. She was attached to the blood pressure cuff.
“Any allergies?” The arm thingy relaxed its grip. And then it began squeezing again.
“Not that I know of.” The woman glanced up sternly and then asked what happened. Noel wanted to argue with Elliot. What the hell did he think he was doing? She was strapped right now but she didn’t want his charity.
All of this was making her feel sick again. Now, in addition to her own blood, the normal hospital smells assaulted her senses.
Noel wondered how long it would take for somebody to give her something less gruesome to hold over the cut.
The nurse documented the brief description of what happened and then pointed towards a waiting area. Unlike the other attendant, she didn’t seem overly concerned by the condition of Noel’s t-shirt.
Elliot drove her over to the waiting area and took a seat for himself. He took his phone out, scrolled through it for a few seconds, and then frowned. She wanted to ask him if everything was okay, but she stifled the question. She’d already promised herself not to be so nosy.
“You don’t have to wait with me.” She was already beholden enough to him. “And you aren’t paying my medical bills. Why did you do that anyway?”
He shrugged. For all of five seconds his eyes didn’t look so intense. Instead they seemed tired and yes, just a little amused. “Same reason I ordered the beer.”
Chapter Three
“Do you need to call anybody?” The thought struck him from out of the blue. Maybe she had a boyfriend, or a husband even. He unlocked his phone again and handed it over. They might not have cell coverage inside the ER, so she ought to make any necessary calls now.
She bit her lip and took the phone. Sitting it on her lap, she input a series of numbers and then held it up to talk.
“Carly, It’s me, No… yeah, it’s not my phone… Hey, just wanted to let you know… No that’s all right. I have ten dollars in my night stand. You can have that. But he can’t stay past midnight… No, I’m serious… Okay… well… oh, never mind. I might be late tonight… No, if it’s snowing too bad I’ll crash at Rory’s… okay… love you too…” And then she ended the call and held it out to him.
He didn’t ask but she explained anyway. “My sister. She’s pretty independent but I’m kind of all she’s got.”
Oh, hell. She had a younger sister to take care of? No insurance and now she was missing a night’s worth of tips. No wonder she didn’t want to leave the hotel.
She smiled a little sheepishly at him.
Emotionally, she seemed all over the place. He wondered if this was due to the loss of blood or her actual personality. He imagined it could be a little bit of both. “How old is she?”
He’d already deduced that Noel was twenty-eight. Just two years younger than him. He felt less depraved for having ogled her. She barely looked twenty-one.
Except when she was thinking. When she concentrated on something he noticed that her flashing emerald eyes showed a combination of steely determination and fear.
The fear aged her a little. What was she afraid of? Not him anymore.
The money. That look came into her eyes when she’d been asked about insurance. He
would have bet, had he not insisted she come to the hospital, she would have, in fact, forced herself to finish her bar shift.
Even if it killed her.
Because always, after the fear, came determination again. This girl had grit.
He couldn’t help comparing her to Ellen. His sister had been given every opportunity in life and yet, it seemed like she was always giving up. She’d quit college, quit jobs, been divorced twice already.
He’d spent the afternoon with her, first at detox, and then later, across town, at the upscale addictions facility. Ellen blamed everyone except herself for her problems.
Fine, Elliot would concede their parents hadn’t always been present. They’d been jetsetters in their younger years, leaving their three children with a nanny, and then later, on their own.
Well, not alone. Servants ensured they’d have some sort of supervision. Left alone for weeks at a time, what kind of trouble could three teenagers possibly get into?
Except that Elliot and Thomas hadn’t gotten into trouble. Nothing serious anyhow. Only Ellen.
“What?” Noel asked suspiciously. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring at her.
Even with blood caked all over, she did something for him –– this tiny vibrating package of womanly curves.
Not his normal type. Perhaps that’s what intrigued him.
“Noel Blake?” A different attendant appeared from behind swinging doors, presumably, to the actual examination rooms, and glanced around.
Elliot took hold of Noel’s chair, and followed the nurse. He’d come this far, might as well make sure she didn’t bolt out some back exit.
They considered him her husband, anyhow.
“Right this way and we’ll get you cleaned up.” The efficient looking woman lead them into a curtained off exam room and then handed Elliott a pink hospital gown. “If you don’t mind helping her, I’ll be right back.”
Noel’s cheeks no longer appeared rosy from the outside cold. In fact, she’d gone rather pale. Elliot helped her out of the wheelchair and over to the bed. When she dropped onto it, she looked as though she might start to complain.
He raised one finger and pressed it to her lips. “Shh… you can fight me on this later, okay? Can you let someone else take care of you for a few minutes? Will you do that?” She gazed back at him as though mesmerized. Sensing she’d lost some of her scrappiness – for now – Elliot took hold of the cloth clutched against her chest and cautiously eased it away.
It was still bleeding but not like it had been before. She’d require stitches though. Damn, that glass had gone deep. Which reminded him, he still had it in his pocket.
Elliot found two clean cloths, dampened one of them with warm water and kept the other dry.
Something he’d said must have finally penetrated her stubbornness because she sat still as he wiped around the cut and then cleaned her hands. When he was finished, he took hold of the bottom of her t-shirt. “Let’s get this mess off you.” Surprisingly, she nodded in agreement and allowed him to lift it over her head.
He did his best to focus on the task at hand. She trusted him right now. Not a good time to ogle the plump flesh threatening to spill out of her bra.
Another of her garments soaked in blood.
She reached out, took the dry cloth from him and held it up against the wound. “The hooks are in back.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
Elliot draped the pink gown around the front of her and then unclasped her bra. She wiggled out of it and tossed it into the waste bin. “It’ll never come out,” she said on a sigh.
She pulled the gown around herself and shivered. “It’s freezing in here.”
It wasn’t really, but she’d begun to shiver again. Handily enough, there was a blanket stacked on one of the counters. “Lay down.”
She did so without question. She even let him place the pillow under her head.
In fact, that was when he saw her first, genuine smile –– even if it was a little weak. “You’re not such an asshole after all, Elliot Stafford.”
Well, hell. That was the most sincere compliment he’d received in ages.
Just then a young woman with a stethoscope entered the room and introduced herself as Dr. Myers. Noel raised up on her elbows to acknowledge the doctor. In spite of her discomfort, she tried to smile –– a ghost of the fake one again. The one he’d seen when she was behind the bar.
Her blood pressure was a little low and her heart rate high, which was to be expected. “I’m going to put in a few stitches, Noel, but I want to make sure there isn’t any more glass inside. It went pretty deep and I’d hate to stitch it up without checking.”
By now the nurse had returned and was opening some sterilized packages and laying the contents out on a metal stand. “We’ll give her a local anesthesia so I can irrigate and dig around a bit.” Dr. Myers turned on a bright light and then addressed Elliot. “This shouldn’t take very long.”
* * *
Less than an hour later, Elliot was once again assisting Noel back to his rental car. The storm had picked up and the falling snow had softened the entire landscape.
Noel had softened up as well. The doctor’d given her a tetanus shot, along with some antibiotics and Vicodin. It was obvious the pain medication had kicked in.
“El-ee-ot. Are you named after somebody El-ee-ot?” Her words were slightly slurred as she sang out his name. “In a thousand years I wouldn’t have guessed your name. I would think maybe Thor or Zane, ya know, something really sexy. But I like it. I like El-ee-ot. Sexy, sexy El–ee–ot.” She readily leaned into him, one arm around his waist.
“Watch your head.” He helped her into the car as she rambled on about his name – and how sexy he was. He couldn’t help grinning as she repeated it over and over again. When she finally paused for a breath, he answered, “I’m named after my grandfather.” Not that she would remember. And, “So not only am I not an asshole, but I’m sexy too?”
“So, so sexy,” she answered seriously. “El–ee–ot.”
Obviously, Noel couldn’t drive herself anywhere tonight. “Noel, sweetheart?” He tried to get her attention. “Noel, can you tell me how to get you home?”
“Home? Home? You can’t take me home!”
“I need to take you somewhere, and I’d think home makes the most sense.” He reasoned with her as though she were a child. She wore the hospital gown beneath her coat and had let down her pony tail sometime in the exam room.
“It’s too far. Takes an hour – longer in bad weather. I can crash at Rory’s.” And then she added, “El-ee-ot.”
It was well past one in the morning. Elliot’s guess was that Rory had left the hotel already. “There are two beds in my room. You can sleep there.” He was not letting her drive anywhere.
“El-ee-ot?” she said his name as a question.
“Yeah?” He put the car in gear and cautiously crept out of the snow-covered lot.
“El-ee-ot? You’re so handsome, and seem pretty well-off. How come you aren’t very happy?”
The question jolted him. “Why don’t you think I’m happy?”
“Your eyes,” she sighed. “Your eyes look sad. Why are you here? Did somebody die?”
“Nobody died,” he answered automatically. Tire tracks were all that was visible on the road. No plows had been out yet. Elliot turned up the defrost and increased the wiper speed. “You think I look sad?” Was he? Yes, he’d been sad earlier, when he’d walked into the bar. His sister’s antics scared the hell out of him.
Had that only been tonight?
“You seemed mad and sad.”
“I’m here for my sister. She’s got drug problems. I have to move her from detox to rehab, so yeah, you’re probably right.”
Noel turned sideways and snuggled into the seat. “Is she gonna be okay?”
It was the million-dollar question. “God, I hope so. She’s… I don’t know if she wants to be.”
“It’s good you’re here for h
er. Must be nice to have a brother like you.”
He couldn’t help but recall how angry he’d felt when he’d taken the call. Again? He’d wanted to yell at her. And when he’d walked into the detox center he’d wanted to shake her. She’d aged a good ten years in the last twelve months. She was slowly killing herself.
“I don’t know if I’m enough.” The raw emotion he heard in his own voice surprised him.
She reached out and squeezed his arm. “She’s lucky to have you. Trust me.”
Elliot glanced over, hearing the conviction in her words. Suddenly she looked one hundred percent lucid.
And kissable. Sweet and sumptuous and kissable. If he wasn’t driving… and she wasn’t hopped up on pain killers…
He shifted his eyes back to the road. A lot of good he’d do both of them if he slid off the highway.
“Ya know what El-ee-ot?” Her voice had gone warm and low, almost a whisper. He couldn’t help glancing at her again. “You’re like, probably, the nicest guy ever.”
Now he knew the pain killers had taken over. Even though, he appreciated the sentiment. Nice wasn’t something he’d ever been accused of.
He chuckled. She might take back her words if she realized the things he’d been thinking about her earlier – and on and off all night. The problem was that at some point her body had become attached to a person. The person that was Noel Blake tugged at him. So sweet looking but so damn feisty at the same time.
“El-ee-ot? Do you have a girlfriend?” This version of Noel was considerably chattier than the other one had been. If that was possible.
Would he have considered any of his recent hook ups as relationships? Probably not. “No. What about you? You have a boyfriend?”
“No time. I clean condos in the day.” Of course. The poor girl worked her life away.
The drive back to the hotel took considerably longer. By the time he’d parked and come around to rouse her, he was pretty sure she’d passed out.
“Just a nap,” she slurred when he pulled her out of the car. And then, realizing where they were, she wrapped one arm around his waist. “Shush Elliot… Have to be very, very quiet. Nobody can know I’m going upstairs with you. It’s against the rules.”
Covet the Curves: a Romance Collections Anthology Page 39
